


AT LAST, I COULD BREATHE

by lokii_odinsonn



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2020-06-26 00:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 37
Words: 78,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokii_odinsonn/pseuds/lokii_odinsonn
Summary: "Y'know, despite what Carol said, I do believe that ass-kicking crowns you Queen," Billy flirted."Oh, my, I must find a King then," I said, looking at him through my lashes. He did that lip thing again and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from doing anything about it. "You know where I can find the King?""I do believe there's one on the basketball team," he teased, leaning his face closer to mine."Aha! You're right!" I said, putting my hand on my forehead in realization, and then my face turned to one of mock puzzlement. I looked around, searching high and low--one hand on my hip and one on my forehead, looking for the king. "Where is Steve Harrington, anyway?"





	1. foreword

Hi! This is a short author's note from Brooke, the author of this story.

First off, I want to thank you for choosing to read AT LAST, I COULD BREATHE! I put so much time and energy into this story, and I had so much fun doing so. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. 

Also, I wanted to put a disclaimer forward that I do not own any characters from the world of Stranger Things, I simply own Bo Hughes, and everyone related to her. I also don't own any storylines from Stranger Things, I own all other plotlines, however. (This story is also going to be available to read on Wattpad and Tumblr.)

And I wanted to put it out there that these characters will express views on certain topics that I myself do not align with. For example, I don't excuse Billy Hargrove's character for anything he's done, but in this story, I will attempt to make him a bit more human and less villainous, but he will still be a crappy person. And if there are any derogatory terms used, just know they are simply for the purpose of characterization and as an expression of the time period—and are not meant to offend anyone by any means.

Lastly, I wanted to issue a warning that this story contains very sensitive topics that aren't meant to be glorified or romanticized in any way!!! (emotional and physical abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, tragic deaths, etc.) This story also contains very explicit language & sexuality, and I'll make sure to put warnings when NSFW scenes occur, but the language is scattered, so if you aren't comfortable with that then this may not be the book for you.

Oh, and here's a quick cast list:

Angelina Jolie (Young) as Bernadette "Bo" Hughes

Dacre Montgomery as Billy Hargrove 

James Marsden as John Davis

Chloe Grace Moretz as Ruby Jones

And everyone else in Stranger Things as their characters

Thanks for listening to me ramble !!

~brooke


	2. being the new girl...again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first chapter here!!  
> also, it starts out kind of cliche, but i promise it gets better and isn't just the same old billy fic stuff. i tried my absolute best to mix it up (and i've worked on it for more than a year, so i hope it isn't crap).

Moving. If there’s one thing I hate most in this world it is moving away from a town and into a new, judgemental one. And this move topped the list of my most hated because this one forced me into a whole new state.

See, I used to live in Chicago. My family (which consisted of my mother and my brother, Shawn) moved all around there because of my mum’s work opportunities. Her company kept offering her higher and higher positions, which required us to move closer to the buildings and sectors she was moved to. I didn’t hate Chicago—in fact, it’s my favorite place in the world. Just moving schools and districts sucked.

Anyways, moving from a place like that to a place like Hawkins, Indiana? Let’s just say, I wasn’t thrilled.

Today’s my first day there as a senior. I know right? — the new girl in my senior year. My position isn’t exactly ideal. I wasn’t nervous, though: I’ve done this too many times for that. However, moving to a new school in a different state and completely different demographic—with no friends—was going to be terribly annoying, I can’t lie.

“Good luck!” My mother shouted as I raced out the door to avoid the first-day hug. I shouted a “Thanks!” back to her and walked down the driveway with a granola bar in-hand.

I fumbled with my keys for a few moments before I successfully unlocked my beloved car and hopped in. The Impala roared to life and I hit the gas. My mum already took me the route to the school a hundred times just to make sure I wouldn’t get lost on my first day, so I pretty much could have driven there with my eyes closed.

I was getting bored about halfway to the school and decided on some Metallica and popped in one of their tapes since you really can’t go wrong with them. “Fade To Black” blasted over the old speakers in my car and all of my windows were down—so I was feeling pretty good despite my predicament. The fresh air whipped against my face as a sang loudly to the song. I quieted as I neared the school, a bit shocked at how few people were there. In Chicago, there had to be at least triple the number of students and cars.

As I pulled in, many of the eyes in the parking lot were on my ride. Some guys nodded their heads along with the song while it continued to play. I didn’t feel the need to turn it down, so I kept it going until I pulled into a spot and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

I grabbed my bag and opened the car door. It creaked as it opened since it was an older model. As I walked past who I presumed to be the popular girls here since they were moderately pretty, they scrutinized my outfit and whispered to each other. One of the less popular, nerdy boys opened the door for me to which I just flashed a smile. He looked like he was about to blow his load right there.

This was one of those moments that happens in movies where the girl walks in the school in slow motion. Almost exactly. My black heels clicked on the tile floors as every head in the hall turned to look at the source of the noise. I know what I look like and I enjoy everyone’s attention, so I wasn’t at all surprised by the reactions.

My outfit certainly did not scream “Hawkins, Indiana”, but “new girl”. I wore high, black heels, tight black leather pants, a white, deep-plunge blouse, and a black leather jacket. My hair was long, almost down to my ass, jet black, middle-parted, and straight—nothing like anyone else’s here. I didn’t favor feathered hair and a perm didn’t really suit me—trust me, I’ve tried. Unconventional, maybe, but I don’t know if it was the rest of my outfit to scream that or just the bright red lipstick I flaunted.

I strutted past all of the people in the hall and entered the office. They printed my schedule and the lady hesitantly handed it to me after checking my outfit out, slightly disgusted. I figured no one had the balls to wear not-so-modest clothes here.

“Welcome to Hawkins High School, you have an assigned guide for the day who will bring you to each of your classes since you don’t know the way around,” the same desk lady said. She pointed over to a brunette girl who was sitting in one of the waiting chairs by the door.

I nodded at the woman, “Thanks. Have a good day.”

“And yourself,” she replied monotonously as if she was reciting from a script.

The girl in the chair looked up once she saw me approach her. She gave me a kind, shy smile and stood up while sticking her hand out to me.

“Wow, you’re really pretty. I don’t know if that’s weird but anyway, um, I’m Nancy. Nancy Wheeler.”

I chuckled and returned her handshake. “Thank you and so are you, girl, I love your hair. I’m Bo Hughes.”

“That’s an interesting name,” she said, walking towards the door. I raised my left eyebrow and she quickly sought to cover what she said. “I mean no offense, by the way. I like it, ‘Bo’.”

I chuckled at the way she made no effort to hide the fact that she was intimidated by me. “Relax, Wheeler. I’m not gonna kick your ass if you say something nice but it came out wrong.”

She gave a slight sigh of slight relief, and we were off to my first class when the bell rang. She told me that she heard my teacher, Mr. Bennett, was a real dick, so I had to be nice, which I appreciated.

I’m not naturally a nice or considerate person and I tend to be quite disruptive, but I know when to keep some of that shit inside. Plus, I want to go to a good college, so I’m going to need to pass 12th Grade English with at least an A-.

I sat down in the back of the room after thanking Nancy. She went to her class and just like in the hall earlier, everyone watched me as I walked in the room.

“Morning, seniors,” a grumpy old man said from the teacher’s desk at the front. “We have a few newer students, so I’m going to rearrange your seating so it’s alphabetical.”

A mass groan was let out by the class—I stayed silent because I didn’t really care either way, although sitting where I was was good for me. I was perfectly fine in the way back, out of Bennett’s line of sight.

“Okay,” he continued. “First desk pair is Lynn Ballard and Lee Bowman…”

I tuned him out for a few seconds, examining my red-painted nails before he eventually got towards the middle of the alphabet, where I resided.

“Jean George and Laverne Gregson. Next is William Hargrove and Bernadette Hughes—”

“Billy—”

“Bo—”

A deep male voice spoke at the same time as I did, trying to correct the name by which Bennett called us. I had a feeling this “Billy” was about as adamant about not being called “William” as I was about not being called “Bernadette”.

Bennett looked over his glasses and over the paper at me. “What did you say, Miss?”

“Name’s Bo. ‘Bernadette’ doesn’t slide, sorry,” I sassed, staring right into his old eyes. He stared blankly at me and clicked a pen to write something down on the sheet.

“Are you the new girl, Bo?”

With my arms crossed, I answered him. “Unfortunately.”

There were scattered chuckles around the room.

“Not a good way to start your career here, Hughes.”

“Not a good way to attract the ladies with those glasses, Bennett,” I said just loud enough for everyone to hear but him. I know I said I would hold it in, but I really couldn't help myself. No one gets my respect if they don’t give it to me.

People stifled laughter from all over the room and a few people near me tried to fist-bump me but I just kept my arms crossed. He took off his glasses and looked at me in anger.

“What did you say?”

“Cool your jets, man. I just said, ‘Thank you for the advice, Mr. Bennett’. Nothing harmful. You Indiana people are real soft,” I said. The last part was quiet, of course. I crossed my arms in accomplishment as a few students continued to laugh.

“Hughes and Hargrove, move to the desks that I just assigned. Shouldn’t take all year. Since Ms. Hughes wants to be a little smartass, the next time she disrupts, you all get detention,” Bennett said after a roll of his eyes.

I smirked and stood up, pushing the chair I had just been sitting in backward with the back of my legs, making as much noise as humanly possible. The chair scraped against the floor as I stared Bennett directly in the eyes. The kid who was seated next to me was losing his shit.

Apparently, standing up to authority around here was a foreign concept. Very different from Chicago. The teachers there were so done with us all the time, it was really funny.

I approached my new desk and then, again, dragged my chair out from the desk as slowly and loudly as possible as “Billy” next to me was hunched over with his hand on his mouth to keep from laughing too loud. Bennett sighed again, completely red in the face, and continued reading off his attendance list after I sat down, crossing my legs. He told the students that were already seated to start reading a book.

Billy straightened himself up after about ten seconds and looked over to me and let me tell you, I damn near choked on air.

He was flawless. His dirty blonde mullet (which I didn’t think anyone could successfully pull off—I was wrong) suited him perfectly and THE CURLS. DO I EVEN NEED TO SAY MORE? And his sunkissed, tan skin made his incredibly piercing blue eyes pop. The boy in front of me had one of the most defined jaws I had ever seen in all my time and the most dazzling smile that he showed off quite proudly. He held a toothpick in his mouth between his teeth, and he rolled it from one side of his gorgeous mouth to the other while raking his eyes up and down my body. I’m sure any girl would absolutely jump on him, given the chance, and honestly, I was tempted.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said with a smooth tone that melted me on the inside. He took my left hand and kissed it like a complete chooch. “I’m Billy,” he whispered against my skin.

I held an unimpressed look on my face despite my previous inner commentary. “Bo, and no.”

He faked confusion, still holding my hand. “No, what?”

“No, I don’t want to fuck you.”

Of course, I want to fuck you, who am I kidding?

He searched my eyes and found a sense of humor in them of which he mirrored. “Damn, girl, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Not exactly, but you’d be surprised at how many things I do do with this mouth,” I said with innocent eyes. Billy’s shoulders dropped and his lips parted slightly and I could tell he was turned on. “None of which you’ll be able to experience, however.”

“Are you like, gay or something?”

I twisted my face at his question. “No, honey, I’m not gay. There have just been no men here I’ve met that suit my needs.”

He chuckled, glancing down at his lap for a moment, visibly impressed. He met my eyes again and held out his hand for me to shake. “Well, Bo, I love a challenge.”

“What’s the challenge, my love?”

Billy smirked. “Twenty bucks on you.”

“I’m only worth twenty bucks? Jesus, I thought you loved me more than that. I’m almost offended.”

He gave me a wicked smile. “Okay, fifty, then.”

I nodded and shook his hand, shooting him an evil grin as well. “I can’t wait until you’re on your deathbed and you’ll pull out a fifty because you never got in my pants.”

“Oh, dollface, I don’t mean in your pants, that’s too easy. I mean you. When you become mine, you owe me fifty bucks.”

‘Too easy,’ I noted. Cocky son of a bitch. I like it.

“Honey, that’s a lose-lose situation for me—”

“But a win-win for me.”

“I really don’t think this is how it’s supposed to work.”

“Well, I really don’t think that’s how girls from Hawkins dress, so we’re already breaking the norms.”

I nodded in agreement, “Fair enough. I’m in a living cliche apparently but be ready to pay up when we’re in a nursing home.”

“Nah, babe, you be ready to pay up this Friday—”

“Hargrove!! Hughes!! Do I need to separate you two?!!” Bennett fumed.

“No, sir,” we said in sync. Billy smirked at me and I laughed and went back to reading.

This was gonna be fun. Maybe senior year here wouldn’t be that shitty after all. My only question was how the fuck was I going to be able to resist this beautiful human being here while my boyfriend, John, was back in Chicago?


	3. practice makes perfect.

As each period went on, I found that my time in Hawkins was going to be kind of miserable. The people here were so boring that it physically pained me to pretend to like them. There was no flavor to Hawkins, Indiana. Eventually, I gave up on that after the third or fourth attempt.

Luckily, I saw Nancy Wheeler when the lunch bell rang, so I wouldn’t be completely alone at lunch.

“Isn’t the cafe that way?” I asked, catching up to her, pointing in the opposite direction with my thumb.

She looked surprised that I would approach her. “Oh, Bo, hi. Um, yeah, it’s over there, but I don’t eat in the cafe.”

“Where do you eat?”

“I’ll show you, you can meet my friend Jonathan,” she replied cheerily. Great, more people to meet.

Nancy’s mood instantly heightened at the mention of her “friend” Jonathan, so I figured there was something going on there, but decided not to mention it.

The two of us walked out into the parking lot in front of the school to a brown-ish older car with a matching brunette boy standing near it. His eyes were also quite dark and I could instantly tell he was uncomfortable by my presence.

“Hi Jonathan,” Nancy greeted.

“Hey, Nance,” he replied with a shy smile. The two gazed at each other before I cleared my throat without a shred of subtlety.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Nancy said awkwardly. “Jonathan, this is the new girl, Bo. Bo, this is one of my close friends, Jonathan.”

I shook the kid’s hand and laughed quietly. He looked at me funny. “What?”

A smirk spread across my face, “Nothing. You guys are real cute, that’s all. I’m gonna go check out the gym, I’ll be back.”

Both of their faces turned beet-red and I turned away. I actually did need to visit the gym because I wanted to see the place in which I would be spending pretty much the entire fall and winter seasons.

Once I strolled into the gymnasium of Hawkins High, I was immediately hit with a wave of B.O. After recovering from near vomiting, I glanced into the basketball court and saw a group of guys playing shirts-and-skins basketball.

Billy Hargrove caught my eye about the same time I caught his eye and we both winked at each other quickly in stereo. He laughed out loud in the middle of a play, and my forehead wrinkled when I snickered. Billy snatched the ball from a tall, dark-haired, wiry boy, and ran down the court to shoot it in the hoop. He yelled something to his coach of which I couldn’t really hear, but I assumed it had to do with a time-out because he started to run over to me.

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” He purred, breathing hard. It took all of my willpower to tear my eyes away from his beautifully carved chest. I’ll always give credit when it’s due and this man deserved some. Jesus Christ, he was built.

“Love at first sight, sorry, I don’t make the rules,” I flirted back, swallowing the saliva collected in my mouth during my observation that this boy was quite literally mouth-watering. He flashed me a handsome smile.

“Just having a look around?” I nodded.

“What about you? Gym class?” He nodded back. “You’re pretty good?”

“I know.”

“Yeah, well, you could’ve executed it better. When you took the ball from Hairspray Wonder over there, you should have gone left, not right, because he would have been able to swipe it from you if he were paying attention and not checking me out. And if you went to go for a three, he would have been right next to you to block it. Left would have gotten you a free space over by the three-point line there and there was no way he coulda gotten over there at that angle in time, so your shot would have been a walk in the park.”

Billy crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side a bit, chewing lightly on his bottom lip. “That was definitely in the top five for the hottest things a girl’s ever said to me.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, please, babe. I could take every spot for your top fifty.”

His bright blue eyes darkened at my statement and I wanted to push him into the wall and rip all of his clothes off (which was really just his shorts, but whatever). Fortunately, I stayed cool and kept my facial expression cocky—no pun intended. He, however, licked his beautiful pink lips and gave me a swoon-worthy smile while advancing on me. I let the blonde come towards me until my back touched the gymnasium wall.

“Babygirl, if only you knew the places I could take you—”

I interrupted his innuendo with my own: “Take me? Like...right here against the wall? Or over there, on the stands? Or maybe in your car that everyone seems to talk about so much—”

“Jesus, you under me in the backseat of my car—”

“I don’t know how that’s gonna work out ‘cause I always get what I want and I really do enjoy the idea of you under me in the front seat of your car.”

He threw his head back and let out a groan that made me bite the inside of my cheek. “Damn it, girl, you shouldn’t say those things to me.”

“And why is that?” I asked, peering up at him with big, innocent eyes through my lashes.

“Because you’re seconds away from getting me hard, and I don’t appreciate the teasing,” he whispered angrily, his breath tickling my face.

I chuckled evilly. “I’m sorry, daddy, I’ll be good from now on,” I said with a smirk.

If I thought his eyes darkened earlier… His pupils dilated almost so much so that the blue was barely visible—a look of pure lust that I’d experienced all too familiarly. The blonde looked like he was trying to form some sort of comeback or even just form a coherent thought, but that was quickly interrupted.

“Hargrove!!” A deep, masculine voice bellowed from the other side of the gym. It was his coach. “Get your ass over here!! She don’t look like a teammate of yours, so why are you wastin’ my time tryna get in her pants?”

“Trying, not succeeding!!” I shouted back, which made the rest of the team laugh, and Billy scoffed.

“Just get out of here!!” One of the guys on the team yelled. “No place for a girl in a gym unless you’re a cheerleader!”

I blinked at the kid’s stupidity for a moment and felt Billy’s eyes on me. I looked him dead in the face, making it extremely obvious that I had no tolerance for this ignorant kid’s bullshit—while Billy still looked like he was ready to eat me alive, trying to subtly readjust his shorts. “Did he...did he really just say that? To me?”

I allowed my clicky heels to guide me across the wooden, polyurethaned floors of the gym towards the kid who spoke fluent idiocy. He was of average height, about 5’8” ish, and had the Hawkins signature brown hair/brown eyes—plus a shit ton of freckles.

“Listen, here, Freckles, I don’t wanna hear shit about where I do and don’t belong. And certainly not in a gym because I know I could kick your ass in a one-on-one game any fucking day.”

A couple of the boys made an “ooh” sound and Freckles went red. I turned away and began walking when he challenged.

“Oh yeah?” I looked back and nodded confidently. “Well, then. I’ll take you up on that, bitch. And the name is Tommy.”

“I don’t recall asking,” I sassed while his top lip twitched, clearly angry with me.

I smirked at him and proceeded to take off my heels. I threw them over next to the bench and the coach just stood there, visibly impressed by my confidence. Most of the guys there, including Billy and Freckles, chuckled at my height after I took off my shoes.

Somebody passed the kid a basketball and I took off the leather jacket. I threw that at Billy since I needed to move my arms and I also didn’t want it to be on the floor and I looked back towards Freckles. His eyes were glued to my arms—as were most of the team's eyes. I glanced down at them, forgetting for a split second that I had several colored tattoos that decorated the length of my arms. I grew up in the hood, I guess I came out as a badass.

“Nice sleeves,” someone commented. I curtseyed sarcastically in response. There were a few other whispers that I heard from around the room coming from onlookers, astonished about my sleeves.

“The first one to 21 wins,” Freckles declared once he tore his eyes from my arms—as if I didn’t know how a game of pickup worked.

“Obviously,” I said with an eye-roll.

“Let’s see if shorty can win against our point-guard,” one anonymous voice said in a sing-song voice before his coach blew the whistle.

“LeT’s SeE iF sHoRtY cAn WiN aGaInSt OuR pOiNt GuArD,” I mocked with a high-pitched, annoying voice. Everyone chuckled except for Freckles.

He had control of the ball first and took a few under his leg before faking right and going left to get the ball around me, dunking.

“WOOO!” He hollered, flexing his nonexistent muscles at me. I rolled my eyes and got the ball.

After a few minutes of his teammates cheering him on, Tommy was falling behind. Billy simply stood there, arms crossed and a smirk on his face while he watched our game. I currently had the ball again and I advanced on him. I was considerably short at five-foot-two, and I knew he was going to try and keep his height as an advantage, but I wanted to twist that into a disadvantage. I dribbled the ball quickly and low to the ground while I was about six inches from his reach. I could feel his breath near my cheek and I decided to play his closeness to me against him.

I put a spin on the ball when I bounced it low out of his reach between his legs, and picked it up behind him quickly. I stepped back after he tried to jump-block my shot, and let the ball roll off of my fingers straight into the hoop with ease.

Final Score: 21-15 — New Girl.

The losing party made a bunch of sexist slurs that I don’t care to include once he saw that he actually was beaten by a female. He sulked while getting up from his defeated place on the floor, helped by a few of his friends. I, unaffected, placed my black heels back on my feet and looked back to the team—all of which were stunned.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Here, in the place where women beat men at their own game.” I smiled at them while they still all stood there in shock. “Which reminds me, Coach. All due respect, but if you’re having the kid I just beat by 8 points in a one-on-one be your point guard, that’s a mistake. You need someone with more speed and agility.”

The team stayed silent and I went over to Billy to get my jacket. His tongue glided over the top row of his teeth and he bit his lip, looking down at me. He motioned for me to turn around, and I obliged. I slid my arms into the piece of clothing and Billy turned me around to fix my collar.

“Who said chivalry is dead?” I joked and he silently laughed.

I turned and began to strut back to the door since the bell was about to ring. The head coach called out after me, “What do you suggest then? Who’s his replacement?”

“Either myself or the other new kid!!” I yelled back, still walking and facing towards the door.

I could literally only imagine Billy’s face right now because, God knows, if he gives me one more of those looks today, I might actually do those unspeakable things we spoke of earlier.

It wasn’t really favoritism either, I mean from what I watched, Billy was clearly the best offensive player on the team. The point-guard needs to be the best player. Not some loser who can get his ass handed to him by a girl who didn’t even warm up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to comment/leave kudos!! <3


	4. making friends is fun.

"Bo!"

I turned to face Nancy as she jogged up to greet me. "Hi, Nance."

"Were you just flirting with Billy Hargrove?"

"Yeah, but I flirt with everyone and I have a boyfriend back in Chicago, so I'm not gonna do anything. I just think he's interesting," I answered.

"Oh. I've never talked to him, but Steve says he's a real douche."

"Who's Steve?"

"Steve's my boyfriend. Steve Harrington. He's on the basketball team, too, so when the bell rings, you can meet him. Your next class isn't far, so you won't be late."

"Okay," I obliged.

I honestly thought there was something going on between Nancy and Jonathan, but I was intrigued to meet this "Steve". Nancy might not have had the balls to leave him because there was definitely something up with Jonathan—a blind person could see that. So Steve was either really cute or a complete sweetheart. Or both, you never know.

Nancy and I sat on the bench outside the gymnasium and waited for the bell to ring. When it did, the basketball team filtered out of the gym led by Billy. He winked at me, while Freckles—who was next to him, sulking—glared at me.

"Maybe you should let Billy know you have a boyfriend. He really looks interested," Nancy suggested. "And what does Tommy Hunter have against you?"

"Eh, I'll let him find out for himself. He's a big boy; he can take it. And as for Freckles," Nancy chuckled at the nickname I gave Tommy, "He doesn't like me because I just beat him in a one-on-one game."

"Of basketball?" I nodded. "Damn, you must be pretty good then."

"I'm alright," I said humbly. I'm actually pretty great at the game and Freckles just didn't impress me. "But, I know. He was so cocky until I royally kicked his ass. Talk about a hit to the ego."

"Trust me," Nancy said, almost gratefully. "He needed an ego decimation."

Just then, a tall, lanky boy—the same one who Billy stole the ball from earlier—walked over to us. "Hi, Nancy." He nodded at me, "New Girl."

"Hi Steve, this is Bo," Nancy introduced.

I stuck my hand out and shook Steve's sweaty one. "Hi, Bo, I'm Steve." I was right, he was both cute and nice.

"Nice to meet you, Nancy's boyfriend," I replied. Nancy blushed and Steve flashed me a smile. We released hands and Steve took Nancy under his arm, as she was decently shorter than him. I was even shorter than her, so I was glad I had my heels on or I would've looked pretty awkward next to the two of them.

"Were you talking to Billy Hargrove earlier?" He asked, out of the blue.

"Seems like everyone noticed, huh?"

He nodded and I rolled my eyes. "What's his deal, anyway? He does not look like he's from a place like this," I asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve asked in a joking tone. "He's from California. He and his stepsister got here a few days ago, I think. He's a dick, though, stay away from him. I've seen him with like six different girls already today."

I raised my eyebrows in slight surprise. "Noted. Can't say I didn't expect that. And don't worry Harrington, I'm taken."

"Been here not a day and already have someone wrapped around your finger?"

"Please, I could have every guy here wrapped around my finger in a day, tops. I mean from Illinois, I'm still dating my boyfriend."

"Oh," he laughed. "I was gonna say..."

The conversation went comfortably silent for a moment, specifically because the halls were still bustling.

"Steve?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah?"

"Can you take Bo to Ms. Callahan's room for Calculus? My stop's here." Steve nodded and Nancy walked into her math classroom, visibly uncomfortable with leaving me and her boyfriend alone. I laughed at the thought: me, unavailable, with her loyal-ass boyfriend, versus her, totally not as interested in her boyfriend as he is, with Jonathan, undeniably in love. Good luck with that, junior.

"So you're from Chicago?" He questioned, making conversation.

"Yeah, in the Near North Side."

"I've always wanted to visit Chicago. I hear it's incredible."

"You've never been?" He shook his hair-sprayed hair no. "Oh, you have to. It's one of the greatest cities on Earth. Way better than this place, no offense. Have you ever left here?"

"None taken, and I went to Disney World once when I was like...seven I think? Other than that—no, I haven't been out of Hawkins."

"Damn, this place kinda blows, I don't know how you could live like that."

"Yeah, it gets kinda boring after a while. It's not so horrible, though. Everyone knows everyone and the people here are nice, for the most part. We get all the seasons, unlike California."

Damn, Steve, I thought.

"And I have a pool for the spring and summer when it gets really hot. It's small-town life, I guess. Not for everyone, though," he explained, talking with his hands, which I silently laughed at.

"What kind of pool?" My interest was peaked.

"Kidney-shaped, inground," he answered proudly.

"I will undoubtedly be there when it gets warm out, then," I declared. He snorted and nodded in approval.

"Here's your room. And Ms. Callahan's nice, I had her for Algebra freshman year."

"Thanks, Steve. See you later." He nodded again in appreciation for my thanks and walked a few doors down and entered a different classroom. I guess Nancy, Steve, and I all had math the same period, which was nice to know.

"Are you Bernadette Hughes?" A middle-aged ginger woman asked.

I shook my head, yes, deciding against giving her sass about my name since Steve said she was a good person.

"Do you have a nickname or is 'Bernadette' what you want to go by?"

"You know, you're the first person to ask me that all day. 'Bo', please, actually," I replied with a grin.

She clicked her pen and wrote down "Bo" next to "Bernadette [crossed out]". I thought back to my first-period class when Mr. Bennett did that and silently giggled at the memory.

"Okay, Bo. You can take a seat wherever you'd like, and welcome to Advanced Calculus!"

I nodded again and sat down at a desk in the middle of the room. All of the guys in there were drooling—so nerdy that I'm sure they hadn't ever had a girl who looked like me in one of their math classes since like the fifth grade. There were only two other girls in the class, too, which kinda made it so much worse. One of them was seated next to me, avoiding eye contact. She had short, curly, bleach-blonde hair, and huge eye-glasses like Mr. Bennett. She had braces, too. That would suck to have braces senior year, I felt bad.

"I'm Bo," I greeted her, sticking my hand out for her to shake. She glanced down at my hand in disbelief and then back up at me. "I don't bite, my friend."

"I know, but girls who look like you and girls who look like me don't generally hang out together," she squeaked.

"What's your name?"

"Erica," she replied quietly.

"Well, Erica, you and I are just gonna have to make Hawkins history, then."

She smiled her brace-y smile at me and shook my hand, liking the sound of my words. "I guess we will, Bo."

Erica was assigned to me by Ms. Callahan to catch me up on what I'd missed from their curriculum from last year. I knew I would pick it up quickly, but since it was an Advanced class, there was a lot of content. Like, two and a half units of material I hadn't gotten to in Chicago.

"Do you want to go to the library after school? That's where I've headed anyways because my mom can't pick me up until 3 o'clock," Erica suggested as the class began packing up to leave.

"We can go over to my house if you'd like. I focus better there, anyway. And you could call up your mom to tell her where you are."

"Okay!" She agreed cheerily.

"I'll meet you at the main entrance after the last bell rings, cool?"

"Cool," she replied. I flashed her a friendly smile and got up from my seat when the bell rang to go to the last period of the day. I didn't see Nancy in the sea of people in the Mathematics hallway, but I did spot Steve's hair, so I made my way over to where he stood.

"Hey, Harrington."

"If it isn't the new girl. Where you off to?" He asked, pushing off of the wall he was previously leaning against.

"I have Study Hall," I replied.

"Sweet! Me too, let's go." He swung his arm over my shoulder and guided me down the hall.

He took his arm off of me because eventually it got awkward and I knew he was loyal to Nancy Wheeler. Unfazed by it, we weaved down the hallways and every now and then there would be some kid who would fist-bump or bro-hug Steve, which made me laugh. You'd think he was royalty or something. And people continued to stare at me, even some familiar faces who were staring earlier. I kinda enjoyed people's fascination with me—I know that sounds self-centered but I'm not exactly the face of modesty. I like how I look and I like that other people do too.

"Here we are," Steve declared as he took a sharp right into a large room. "Welcome to the upstairs library, where you will get yelled at, wads of paper thrown at you, and try to do work, but will never succeed."

"Sounds fuckin' terrible."

"Oh, you bet your ass, New Girl."

"Names?" The male teacher asked, a few feet away at a wooden table.

"Harrington, Steven."

I sighed, "Hughes, Bernadette."

Steve snickered from my side and I quickly elbowed him. We took a seat at a table in the middle of the library and Steve was still laughing at my name.

"Yuck it up, Steven," I said, leaning over the table. His teasing face dropped and I immediately cracked up, throwing my head back for a good laugh.

The chair next to mine slid out and I watched Steve, who was across from me, glare at whoever it was as I calmed down after laughing at him for a moment.

"Harrington," a familiar, sexy, and smooth voice addressed.

"What are you doing, man?" Steve asked, visibly annoyed. Billy sat down next to me and moved his chair closer to mine, not at all subtly.

"Wheeler really needs to pull that stick out of your ass, I'm not doin' anything illegal here."

"Yeah? Nothing illegal yet," Steve challenged.

I watched with my eyebrows raised and arms crossed as Billy's face twisted from a scowl into an amused smile. "I'm just bein' friendly, man."

"Well, trust me, she doesn't want you to—"

"Newsflash, assholes," I interrupted, getting both of them to look at me, surprised by my audacity to call them that. "As much as I would love for this measuring contest to continue and crown a king for Biggest One, I can speak for my damn self. And what I'm gonna say is that I have a shitload of work to do so if you could take your couple fight to the table over there, that'd be great."

I pulled out my Calculus textbook and papers and the two boys sat there for a moment in astonishment. Is wit foreign here as well?

Billy spoke first. "Alright, beautiful, no reason to get all hot and bothered, I was just about to leave since I'm clearly not wanted here," he shot a look to Steve across the table. "And Jesus Christ, you already have that much work?"

"The joys of AP Calculus," I replied.

"'AP', like Advanced Placement?" I nodded. "What, are you some kind of freak genius?"

"Genius?—yes. Freak?—no. Looks really good on college applications and I actually plan on getting out of here quickly." Billy looked obviously bored with my answer so I decided to tease him.

"Aw, don't tell me that just because I'm smart that your feelings for me have changed! I don't think I can handle a divorce right now, look at how much paperwork I already have!" I joked.

"Nah, baby, that just sealed the deal. I'm not leavin' you now 'cause that just made you like ten times hotter, I love me a smartass," Billy flirted back. I could see Steve roll his eyes obviously in my peripheral vision and laughed to myself.

"Good, because I'm a freak in other ways that don't involve math," I flirted, beginning my work and keeping my eyes away from Billy's at all costs. I knew exactly what his face looked like—and even Steve went silent at my sharp comment.

Some of Billy's friends called him over to a different table and he looked back to me. He took my hand with the pencil in it and kissed my knuckles for the millionth time today. "See you later, doll."

"I'm so glad we resolve our issues so quickly. It's really the backbone of the relationship," I remarked and Billy laughed out loud. His smile was contagious and I had to crack one of my own. He winked at me for the second time that day and went over to the other table where his friends resided.

Steve leaned towards me across the table. "I think everyone in the vicinity of the state of Indiana has noticed how badly he wants into your pants."

"You think I have him whipped yet?"

"Oh, absolutely. That was some A1 flirting. I think I'm whipped." He joked. "Just be careful, though."

"Don't worry, Steven. I'm a big tough girl—I can handle him."

"I bet you can, but you tell me if he gives you any trouble," Steve said seriously.

"Lighten up, Harrington. I come from Chicago, remember?" I said with my arms out, exaggerating my Chicagoan accent. "I can hold my own, but yeah, I'll let you know if he becomes a problem."

"Thanks, I don't want Nancy to worry. She likes you."

She doesn't like me with you.

"She's a sweetheart. And also you totally mean yourself, don't try and lie to me. Steve Harrington's concerned about my safety," I teased in a sing-song voice.

"You're a nice girl and I don't want someone like him to ruin that. I've seen it happen before."

"Thanks for all the offers and stuff, but I could probably serve your ass in a fight—no offense. You're a good guy, Steve. I can see why Nancy digs you. And if anything, I'd be the one ruining him."

His cheeks turned slightly pink and I actually started to hurt inside. He was clearly so in love with Nancy but she so wasn't in love with him. It's a girl thing, I suppose, that you can see when another girl's in love or not. Maybe guys have it the same way.

"Aw come on. Biggest ladies man in the school, the new girl compliments him, and he blushes? You're so incredibly lame, Harrington."

"Shut up, Bernadette," Steve joked.

We fucked around for a few more minutes, talking about things from Nancy to old friends. We eventually got yelled at by the moody teacher that was at the table when we walked into the library to be quiet, and I went back to doing some of my Calculus makeup work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plz leave feedback!! <3


	5. we're the kings and queens.

The last bell rang and I damn near jumped out of my seat. People here were insufferable—so nice it made me suspicious. Back in Chicago, no one took shit from anyone, and that’s how I’m still planning to live out the rest of senior year in Hawkins. I think I make it pretty clear who I do and do not fuck with anyway.

I weaved my way through the hallways towards my locker, switching out the books I didn’t need for the ones I would when I felt a slap on my ass. Without even looking to see who it was (all I could tell was that they were male—I hadn’t had my ass grabbed by a girl before), I lurched forward and grabbed my assailant’s nethers.

“Ahhh, fuckkk!” He yelled, tensing up as I squeezed. I looked up to see my best friend, Freckles.

“Freckles, we meet again. What lovely circumstances, don’t you think?” I sassed, popping a bubble of my gum in his face.

The fear etched on his face and in his eyes made me smirk. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, slightly shaking and breathing extremely heavy.

“Are you?” I asked, mocking him with my head cocked to the side. His friends stayed quiet—everyone in the halls looking at me squeezing the life out of Tommy Hagan’s balls shamelessly.

He nodded profusely. “I..I’m...I shouldn’t have—”

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s goin’ on here, Hagan. New chick already got the hots for ya?”

Tommy looked to Billy and mouthed ‘Help me’. I didn’t respond to the blonde but rather looked to Tommy for a more sincere apology than I knew he was pretty much incapable of giving me. It was fun watching him squirm, though.

“Freckles?”

Tommy’s attention came back to me, while Billy watched with his eyebrows raised.

“Touch me like that again, and I’ll actually rip your balls off. Do I make myself clear?”

Tommy gulped audibly and nodded.

I squeezed a bit tighter and raised my voice this time. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he coughed out, voice wavering in fear.

I released him from my iron grip and he fell backward ungracefully. I turned to the rest of the people in the hallway, still standing there, staring in shock at what I’d just done.

The girls and guys just sort of stared at me and Tommy on the ground. “The bell rang? I think everyone should go the fuck home now? Maybe?”

Everyone started moving again at my words, whispering and snickering at Tommy Hagan. My back was to Billy as he leaned against the locker and spoke while I tried to get my shit out of my locker again.

“Quite the show, you put on there. What’d he do?”

“Slapped my ass—”

“Oh, come on, that warrants that? Can’t say I wasn’t thinking about it: you’re fine as hell.”

“Oh, I’m flattered,” I said, fanning my face as if to say I was incredibly attracted to Billy. He scoffed.

“You didn’t let me finish. He slapped my ass without permission. A boyfriend or a boy-toy is allowed to do that, not some crusty-ass, horny douchebag,” I continued. Billy ran his tongue across his bottom lip, shaking his head at me with that look in his eyes again. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He feigned innocence.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t lie, Hargrove. It’s that stupid lip thing you do that makes me want to pull you into the janitor’s closet and fuck you senseless.” His lips formed an ‘o’ at my words while his eyebrows raised suggestively. “So don’t do it because I want to get into a good college and that can’t happen if I’m screwing you during class.”

“What about after class?” He purred, sliding closer to me. I stopped grabbing stuff from my locker for a moment to examine his face.

“Oh, yeah, fuck the whole ‘going-out-with-a-bang’ thing, I’m ‘coming-in-with-a-bang’. Literally,” I said dryly. He threw his head back and shook his head at the ceiling in amusement, making me smile.

“Oh fuck, I gotta go, someone’s tutoring me,” I remembered, walking away, but still turned to him.

“A genius like you needs tutoring?” He teased.

I turned and flipped him off, weaving through the sea of people towards the main entrance.

I found Erica patiently waiting on one of the benches for me. She perked up when I approached her, giving me a small grin. People stared as we walked—I figured the stereotypes were to blame here.

“Woah, this is your car?” She asked, quite shocked. I nodded humbly, knowing she probably wasn’t of great wealth. Neither was I—my momma worked two jobs and my brother pitched in with his pay from the army. I was on the hunt for a job as well. We get by, though. And I tend to get the short end of the stick in life, believe it or not, so my mom decided to spoil me with this car.

Erica got into the passenger side of my sleek, gorgeous black car and I opened my door but was stopped by a cat-call whistle.

“A sexy woman and a sexy car—what else do you really need in life?”

“Gas,” I replied, turning to the hot blonde.

“What?”

“Nevermind,” I said, holding my nose bridge in shame that my joke wasn’t intercepted.

Having to explain a joke is my personal hell.

“Where are you going?” He asked, leaning up against the car.

“Hey, get off, I don’t want you scratching her.” I pushed him away from the Impala. “I’m going home for your information—gotta learn 2 and a half units of Calculus. I’m really itching to get started.”

“Ooo, I shouldn’t hold you up then—”

“Where is she?! Bo Hughes!! Where are you, you fuckin’ bitch?” I heard a girl yelling. I raised my hand up in the air nonchalantly, not at all bothered by how hostile she sounded as she furiously strutted towards me.

She had reddish-brown hair, feathered and curled like most of the girls here, and a bitchy look that I’m sure rarely leaves her features. “You grabbed my boyfriend’s dick?!”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, chill. I’ve grabbed more than one dick in my time.” Billy hid his laugh with a cough and I smirked. It’s not like I was lying. “I’m going to need you to specify but I’m assuming you mean Tommy Hagan?”

Her nostrils flared. “Yeah, I heard you grabbed his dick.”

“Yeah, you said that. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Carol.”

“Okay,” I laughed. “Listen, ‘Carol’, I did grab your boyfriend’s dick. Would you care to know why? Because he slapped my ass and I don’t take shit from men like that. So the fact that I injured your dumbass boyfriend’s willy is completely justified in my book, so hurry along and pick a fight with someone you’ll win against. Good chat, though.”

When I tell you she was fuming…

“Excuse me, bitch, I can win against you,” she challenged, trying to size me up since she was taller than me even in my heels. I looked with raised eyebrows to Billy, who might as well have been watching with popcorn.

“Ooo,” I goaded. “You wanna go then? Right here, right now?”

She cocked her head to the side and gave me an evil smile. “Fine, I enjoy putting bitches in their place.”

If I have one piece of advice for y’all, this would be it: don’t ever throw the first punch. Just taunt a bitch until she does.

I had fire in my eyes and a tone that matched the flame. “Do you enjoy having a boyfriend who hits on other women, too?”

She yelled and advanced on me in a fury, fists balled. I closed the door of my car and put myself in a defensive position. She swung right, which I dodged, then a left, which I dodged, and then when she went to reload I swiftly punched her square on the bridge of her nose—this way, she would get two black eyes and look like a fucking raccoon while I only had to throw one punch.

She shook her head, dazed from the strike, and I waited for her to approach me again. She tried the right-left thing again, except this time I ducked and gave her a left-right into her stomach, which made her fall back onto the ground in pain. Apparently, the fact that I was a lefty was an advantage in this situation. I sat on top of her and she dragged her nails down my face, eliciting a screech of pain from me, and then I grabbed her collar and brought her up towards my face only to spit in it and shove her back onto the ground. Her head hit the concrete with such a force that—between that and the punch to the nose—she would probably have a concussion after.

She tried throwing me off, which worked for a moment so I was pinned under her and she slapped me hard across the face, leaving a stinging sensation in my left cheek. But I maneuvered my legs to sweep hers out from under her and sat on her again. I swung left-right, left-right, left-right until my knuckles started to bleed and someone pulled me off of her.

“Let me go, let me go!” I yelled, struggling against Billy’s strong arms.

“Relax, princess, take a breath, you won,” Billy whispered in my ear, his voice extinguishing some of the fire that ravaged my mind when I fought, ultimately making me calm down. We watched as Carol was helped up by her other bitchy friends, all simultaneously scowling at me.

“Listen, bitch, I wasn’t even trying. So just because you won doesn’t mean you won—don’t think you’re royalty now,” she told me, spitting out some blood.

I rolled my eyes at her dumbassery. “Records are made to be broken, darling.”

She lunged at me, but her friends held her back, knowing that it would end in another ass kicking with her ass in the dirt again.

I cocked my head to the side and leaned forward tauntingly. “No, really, come at me again. I’m sure the outcome will be different.”

She rolled her eyes and gave me one last look of disgust before she stumbled away with her possy.

“Anyone else wanna get their shit rocked today?” I asked obnoxiously, putting my arms out in an offering position towards my onlookers. People began to turn away but I saw more than one impressed face in my audience, which I was actually expecting.

I heard Billy’s laughter from behind me and I turned to see him with his hands on his knees, hunched over. He straightened up after a few seconds and took my hand in his. “Honestly I think the only thing hotter than that would have been if you were naked.”

“Good Christ, you say that like it’s the first time I’ve heard that sentence,” I flirted, staring into his big blue eyes.

I’d honestly forgotten how many times I’d now seen his pupils dilate that day, turning darker by the second, and I really, really, wanted to take him in my car right now in the parking lot, but the whole damn school was watching (as was the middle school) and that wouldn’t be classy. Also, I had a passenger already, so I don’t want to be that rude. Oh, and the whole boyfriend problem.

“Y’know, despite what Carol said, I do believe that ass-kicking crowns you Queen.”

“Oh, my, I must find a King then,” I said, looking at him through my lashes. He did that lip thing again and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from doing anything about it. “You know where I can find the King?”

“I do believe there’s one on the basketball team,” he teased, leaning his freckle-dusted face closer to mine.

“Aha! You’re right!” I said, putting my hand on my forehead in realization, and then my face turned to one of mock-puzzlement. I looked around, searching high and low—one hand on my hip and one on my forehead, looking for the king. “Where is Steve Harrington, anyway?”

Billy’s face dropped and he turned slightly red, jaw clenching. I looked back to him and feigned concern.

“Did I ruin your moment, my love?”

He pinched the air. “Lil bit, dear.”

I placed my hand on his face, cupping his cheek slightly. “Don’t worry, no one can replace you, My King.”

He kissed my palm and gave me those eyes again. “You’re damn right, baby.”

I pulled away from him and got in the car without another word. Erica had shock written all over her face and she slightly leaned away from me.

“Erica, you don’t have to worry, I only hand out ass-beatings to people who deserve it. You’re one of the least hostile people I’ve ever met.”

She forced a smile at this, but I could see that there was a minute amount of sincerity behind it. I took a breath and started the car, turning on the radio to a pop station I assumed she enjoyed to fill the awkward silence.

I pulled out of the lot and rolled down my window, “Hell of a first day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are so helpful and motivational!! <3


	6. head in the sky.

As the weeks went on, it became easier and easier to not give a fuck about what people thought about me. Hawkins wouldn’t ever be a place where I strived to look or be my best. In fact, I’m sure this place will only hold one very small place in my heart because I’m only graduating high school here.

Speaking of graduating, I couldn’t wait for college. Even though my brother, Shawn, is in the military, he went to West Point for college and had the time of his life. Shawn is also my supplier for alcohol and weed—not to my mother’s knowledge, though. We were the perfect children. Shawn still lives with us when he isn’t off in another foreign country, and yeah, he’s the biggest pain in my ass, but he’s still my brother and I love him so it’s nice to have him here. Sometimes, of course.

This was just not one of those times.

“BO!” I heard him yell as he bounded up the stairs. Shawn burst into my room with an angry expression on his face, almost fuming, while I continued to do my calculus homework.

“Yes, brother dearest?”

“Don’t gimme that shit, where’s my weed?”

“Your weed? I don’t fucking know?! You should keep it down or Mum’s gonna hear, you asshole!” I whisper-yelled.

“I know you took it!” He whisper-yelled back.

“Oh, really? How? What’s your proof?”

“Listen, I know you wanna be a lawyer and all that shit but only you know where I hide it so cough it up,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re not hearing, Shawn. I didn’t take your fucking weed. It was probably that girl you were bangin’ the other night. Didn’t you guys smoke before?” I replied absentmindedly, looking back at my work. I couldn’t see it, but I knew his mouth dropped open into an ‘o’-shape.

“You heard that?”

“Kansas heard it, Shawn. And I don’t mean the state, I mean the band. Back in Los Angeles. They heard it.”

He sighed and blushed a bit, ashamed of himself. “I don’t really care,” I continued, “I left the house after I realized it wasn’t just in my head.”

“Okay, that’s a little better. But so uncomfortable, wow, I’m gonna leave now.”

“Is she a keeper?” I asked as he went to leave.

“Huh?”

“The girl you were with. Is she a keeper-slash-possible-girlfriend?”

“I didn’t really like her so nah.”

“Attaboy.”

“I literally hate you so much—” He cut himself off by closing the door. Imagine losing an argument, can’t relate.

“Wait a fuckin’ second,” Shawn marched back in.

“Jesus Christ, what do you want from me?” I said dryly.

“You support my decision to drop this girl?” His eyebrows were furrowed.

“If you don’t like her then yeah.”

“So you don’t have a problem with the hit-and-run situation I’m in?”

“Do you expect me to?”

“Well, you’re a girl,” I gave him a ‘no-shit’ look. “Girls tend to take this stuff to heart.”

“Ight, I feel that. But if you don’t like her, don’t lead her on, Shawn.”

“Have you...y’know…?”

“Hit and run? Yes, Shawn, I’m not a child. Now leave so I can do my homework,” I shooed.

“That makes a lot of sense now,” he said, walking back out.

“CLOSE THE DOOR, YOU MORON!”

I heard a chuckle and then Shawn’s hand quickly appeared to shut the door. There is nothing I hate more than when people walk into your room and then leave without closing the door. ‘Cause then you gotta get up and close it yourself and then try and find the comfy position you were just in beforehand. A real hassle, if you ask me.

Oh, and by the way, I do have Shawn’s weed. Well, had. If you thought I wasn’t on the fucking ceiling right now then you were wrong.

“BO!” Once again, Shawn’s voice rang out from downstairs.

“Yeah?!”

“Someone’s at the door for you!”

I stared at my wall the way I do when someone says something idiotic. Getting up from my comfy position and with a pout, I descended the stairs with minimal difficulty.

I reached the door and found my brother talking to someone and that someone turned out to be none other than Billy Hargrove.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted with a smile, taking my hand and kissing it. This must have been a thing because there wasn’t a single time I saw him and he didn’t kiss my hand.

Shawn cleared his throat obnoxiously from next to me and I rolled my eyes.

I looked at Billy. “Let’s go outside and talk. Someone has an itchy throat—might be distracting,” I poked, not even in a subtle way at all.

Billy and I sat down on the front porch and I knew for a fact that Shawn may have closed the door, but he was 1000% listening in on our conversation.

“Actually, can we go in your car? Maybe go somewhere?” I leaned into him, putting my hand on his bicep so it looked to Shawn like I was flirting. I was whispering now, my head on his shoulder. “I’m fucking baked right now on Shawn’s weed and he’ll murder me if he finds out.”

I pulled away with a smile and he laughed at my statement. For some reason, I was feeling a little extra touchy today, so when we stood up, I grabbed his hand and interlocked it with mine. He flashed me one of those sexy smiles and in my state, my knees went wobbly for a moment.

“I’m okay,” I declared, steadying myself as we walked down the driveway towards his glorious car. He shook his head and opened the passenger door for me, guiding me in. “I love a gentleman.”

Billy shot me a wink and quickly got into the driver’s seat. He pulled out of the driveway and we were off. I let out a sigh of relief once we were away from the house.

“You think I looked high?”

“Not really, you’re pretty good at hiding it.”

“M’kay, thanks.”

A few moments of comfortable silence passed.

“So where are we going?” Billy asked.

“I don’t know. Somewhere quiet because I will get real paranoid real fast if we’re in a crowded situation,” I half-joked.

“I know where we can go.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

It was true in my intoxicated state. But my regular self doesn’t really trust anybody outside of my mom and my brother. And I guess John, my boyfriend—but there are even times when I distance myself from him despite my best efforts to be completely and totally in love with him. Kinda sad? I agree, but that’s how it’s gotta be sometimes.

“That’s very dangerous of you,” he remarked in a fake-ominous tone.

“I agree, but if you were taking me to some field to rape and/or kill me, my brother would vouch that you were the last one to see me alive so it wouldn’t be a very well-thought-out plan, now would it?”

Billy gave me a sideways look—his eyes particularly widened. “Jesus, you think about that shit?”

“I’m a woman—of course, I think about that shit.”

That shut him up. Let’s be honest, though. Every woman always has that in the back of her head at some point when she’s alone around guys. We all know Ted Bundy.

After about fifteen minutes of awkwardness (Billy put on his rock music to drown it out like two unbearable minutes in), he pulled onto the side of the road next to a field.

“Can’t believe you ruined my plan,” Billy said sarcastically with a chuckle.

But I didn’t really pick up on the sarcasm because he didn’t use a joking tone—he had said it dryly. So I got mildly nervous as a result.

My throat ran dry, “You were really gonna..?”

“Babe, never.” He suppressed a laugh. “I’m joking. You’re gettin’ paranoid: we can leave if you want.”

“Oh, okay. No, I’m good, I wanna stay,” I replied, recomposing myself. We got out of the car and I breathed in the fresh air and felt it all around me. The Chicago air is so stuffy and polluted, and as much as I love it, it sure didn’t beat the fresh air out here. I looked at Billy, who was lighting a cigarette while leaning against the front end of the Camaro.

“What?”

I gave him a disapproving look towards the cigarette and grabbed his hand again. I started running—and let me tell you one thing: running while faded is so much fucking fun, I highly (no pun intended) recommend. After a few yards, I let go of Billy and just started running through the field, feeling all the tufts of grass. The crunch of the leaves underfoot. The howl of the wind whipping through my hair. I think Billy yelled after me and I turned my head, still running, and waved for him to follow, and then just kept going. I reached the woods at the edge of the field and kept going. After a minute or so, I stopped and sat down on a rock. I examined the rock like it was the last thing I’d ever do.

I’m pretty weird when I’m high, I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet. But for some reason, this rock was fascinating to me. The way the crevices and bumps felt under my fingertips. The shape and size of the rock (it was huge!). Even the mossy plant that covered some of the huge mass of stone was absolutely captivating to me.

“Christ, you can run!” Billy shouted from a few hundred feet away, within seeing distance now.

“Thanks!”

He sat down next to me on the rock, completely out of breath. “What took you so long?” I asked him with innocent eyes.

“Well, I had to put out my smoke, grab the keys so no one steals my car, and then run after your ass through a field and then the fuckin’ woods. It was a struggle, believe it or not.”

“You’re a point guard, you should be quick on your feet,” I observed, still running my hands over the rock’s bumpy surface. He sighed, clearly annoyed, and rolled his eyes. I continued, “I do appreciate you coming after me, though.”

“I do live by that rule.”

It took me longer than it should have to understand that innuendo. I was losing my chill, apparently, so I wasn’t able to come up with any kind of fire-back or even keep my face straight. Eventually, I shook my head and got my shit back together (which, unfortunately for me, took like ten seconds in total which was way longer than I would’ve liked).

I smiled at him sideways and gave him the eyes. “That’s a good rule, I don’t like greedy men.”

“I don’t know how you’re gonna like me, then, sugar.”

“I mean regarding sex, dumbass,” I giggled, punching his arm. He feigned hurt and pouted, and I giggled some more. It was very girly of me, actually.

“I know you meant sex, love.”

My face dropped, “Oh, okay, I see you. But hey, who isn’t greedy when it comes to sex, let’s be honest here for a minute.”

Billy nodded mockingly and I shoved him playfully. He fell off the rock and onto the ground with a grunt.

“I’m sorry!” I yelled, putting my hands to my face in genuine shock. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

“Little Miss Stoned, you’re gonna get it.”

That activated my fight or flight response so fast and Billy was obviously much stronger than me so I just tucked my tail and fucking sprinted the other way. I could hear him bounding after me, and every time I would look back at him, he would speed up.

I was about fifty feet or so from the Camaro—the unspoken safe haven—when Billy caught up to me. He wrapped his arms around my front and swiftly spun me around to make me dizzy. He didn’t set me down like the gentleman he had been earlier, no, this time he turned me around to face him and hoisted me over his shoulder so my ass was in the air. I screamed and laughed, and being high just made it that much better. I could feel the effects of marijuana slowly wearing off, but I really felt on top of the world and you can quote me on that.

“Billy! Let me down, no, no tickling, stop, hah—BILLY!” I couldn’t stop laughing between my words and my face hurt from smiling as he tickled me while walking towards the car, my legs flailing about. He eventually let up and set me down on the car. Not in, on. And it wasn’t the hood or the trunk, it was right above the window on the passenger side.

Once I calmed down from my pseudo-high, I noticed he was just straight up smiling at me. And this was a genuine smile, not the mocking or smirking ones or even the ones when he laughs at my bad jokes. This had a new kind of energy and it was certainly something I could get used to. His pearly whites gleamed in the sunlight and I took just a second to appreciate his beauty—his smile was truly breathtaking, I thought. It reached all the way up to his ocean blue eyes and I just had to grin back.

But don’t get me wrong, I’m not tryna date this boy. Like I said earlier, I know what type of guy he is and I’ll gladly be friends or even friends with benefits with one, but nothing more. Guys as friends are much more fun than girls and I tend to get along with them better anyways. Plus, you know, I’m taken and I don’t fuck with cheating at all.

“What?” I giggled again. It pissed me off how girly I sounded and how absolutely cliche I felt. I was not a giggler. I even hate the word “giggle”. I make myself sick.

“You are so fucking stunning when you smile, holy shit, doll,” he complimented, keeping that boyish grin present.

I blushed slightly and then lifted my head to an angle so the sunlight complimented my features, batting my eyelashes at him like a chooch. “Am I radiant like the sun?”

“You’re something else, you know that, Hughes?”

“Oh, I get it. I’m a different kind of radiant—like the stars and the moon, who needs the sun?” I joked, laughing at the end like an idiot. Normally when I tell jokes, I don’t laugh at them unless other people do first but being high just throws everything out of whack, huh. That joke wasn’t even funny yet I felt the need to crack up at it anyway because I happen to find myself that hilarious.

“Do the jokes ever stop?”

“I only come with a lifetime-supply of corny, horrible jokes that you will only remember because they’re so bad. It’s actually a package deal.”

He paused for a moment, faking taking his time to think about it with one finger on the chiseled chin of his. “How much does the package cost?”

“A ride to Nancy Wheeler’s house.”

“Fuck off with that, are you being serious?”

“Yeah, she wanted me to come over because she had something to tell me, I don’t know what it’s about but I’m in no condition to drive, and why not?”

“Okay, babe, only for you,” he flirted.

Now, we’ve been discussing what I’d normally do in these situations and right now is no different. If I was not high, I would have just hopped off the top of the car and gotten into the front seat, maybe I would’ve flashed Billy a smile for a quick flirtation. However, I am high, so, of course, I had to envelop him into a hug.

Billy tensed up quickly and didn’t return the hug at all. I pulled away, confusion and concern etched in my features.

“I’m really sorry I did that, it was out of line. I don’t like being hugged either, so I don’t really know why I did it in the first place. Sorry, again—”

“I know what you mean, beautiful. No worries, you just caught me off guard,” Billy shrugged with a nervous laugh.

He was a terrible liar. I had my reasons for not wanting hugs or a ton of human affection: mainly because I wasn’t hugged a lot as a child and I don’t really know why, but I’ve just never craved intensely intimate human touch like that. What could Billy’s reasons possibly have been? All he does is have sex with girls like 24/7 so if anything, he wants physical attention. I love me a mystery, though, and you bet your ass I will Sherlock Holmes the shit out of this once I’m not off-my-face high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, more chapters coming!!


	7. upside down my ass.

“You know, you could just skip out on this and spend the rest of the day with me,” Billy informed me as he parked outside of the Wheeler household.

I gave him a look, “As tempting as that sounds, Prince Charming, I would kinda like to make some female friends and with my track record, I’m not doing too hot.”

He snickered, in reference to the fight I had with Carol a while ago. “How is Carol? She doing good?”

“You know, I’m not sure, but how is sucking my dick? Is it good?” I asked, rolling my eyes and getting out of the car. Billy opened his door and leaned on his arm that was rested on the hood of the Camaro.

“I’m sure you taste delightful, sweetheart,” he flirted in a deep voice.

I bit the inside of my cheek and raised my left eyebrow. “You’ll have to ask my boyfriend.”

Billy looked like the wind had been knocked out of him, then he nodded with his tongue gliding over the top row of his teeth, accepting the defeat—at least temporarily.

“Don’t tell me you forgot, my love,” I teased further with an evil smirk on my face.

“You flirt like you’re single, baby girl, it’s easy for a woman like you to get a man caught with his pants down.”

I laughed and he smiled back at me, “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime, sweets.”

Just then, a red car peeled around the corner towards Nancy’s house and abruptly stopped in the driveway. None other than Steve Harrington got out of the driver’s side—hair and all. I glanced back at Billy and his entire demeanor changed—his smile dropped, his back straightened, and his stare turned into a glare. I rolled my eyes at the sudden rush of masculinity that radiated from him, knowing it was because he feels threatened by Steve, so I decided to walk away, towards the latter.

“Sure you wanna stay here, kitten?” Billy shouted obnoxiously, getting his point across quite clearly.

“Believe it or not, I have friends other than you, hotshot!!”

Billy bit his tongue and his nose twitched in annoyance. I turned my head back to witness him slamming the car door shut behind him and speeding off down the road and out of sight.

“Why are you friends with him again?” Steve said, suddenly next to me.

I jumped and held my hand over my heart, “Jesus, I didn’t think you were right next to me.”

“I’ll be sure to alert you next time, kitten,” he poked mockingly, laughing his ass off as he walked away. I caught up to him and elbowed him subtly, laughing as well as we strolled down the walkway.

Steve rang the doorbell and we heard bustling around before Nancy appeared at the doorway and quickly pulled both of us inside.

“That wasn’t suspicious,” I remarked and Steve nodded in agreement. Nancy’s eyes rolled and she led us up to her room and closed the door presumably for privacy since her family was home.

“Why am I here?” I asked, raising my hand.

“Steve and I haven’t been completely honest with you about everything that goes on around here,” Nancy blurted after looking a bit hesitant to answer my question.

Steve’s eyes widened at her and I was lost. “Uh, what could possibly ‘go on’ in a place like this? Someone’s cornfield get ransacked?”

I could see Steve trying to stifle a laugh at my Indiana stereotype joke, but his face turned serious quickly, which was unusual.

“Nance, uhm, I thought we weren’t gonna—”

“She needs to know, Steve, if she’s gonna be our friend. It’s better when they know, you know that better than anyone,” Nancy replied ominously as if I wasn’t sitting right in front of her.

“Uh, what do I not know?”

“Okay,” Nancy took a breath and composed herself before seating herself on the other side of me on her bed. “Well, um, this place is really weird, and I mean really weird. There used to be this lab here and they did illegal experimentations on this little girl—”

“And somehow she made a rift between dimensions,” Steve interrupted, “Like she made a gateway into this other, hell-like world. We call it the Upside Down—”

“And this little girl, though, she has mind powers like telekinesis and stuff like that—”

“But we don’t know how she got them—”

“Anyway, in the Upside Down there are these crazy, slimy, disgusting monsters that we call Demogorgons—”

“After the D&D character—”

“And they’re huge and gross and they have this face that looks like a five-petaled flower with no eyes but lots of teeth when it opens up—”

“And that little girl, Eleven, had to destroy one of them last year—”

“It worked, but we have no clue where she went—”

“And Nancy’s little brother’s best friend, Will Byers—”

“Jonathan’s brother—” Nancy piped in.

“He was the reason we found out about this because he went missing for a few weeks last year and it turns out he was in the Upside Down the whole time when he got kidnapped by a Demogorgon—”

“And so did my best friend, Barb, but, uh, she,” Nancy got real quiet, “She didn’t make it out.”

“And so we had to lie to everyone and their mom about all of this stuff and the lab had to be evacuated and stuff like that and it was chaos—”

“And now we think there might be something wrong again,” the girl to my left finished.

I looked at them with both of my brows raised and my mouth open. Then I burst into a smile, “That sounds like a great idea for a book, you guys should definitely write that one down.”

The two looked at each other for a moment. “You think we’re kidding?”

“Uh,” I scoffed, “Yeah.”

“We aren’t,” Steve said in a serious tone.

I leaned forward toward the pair and put my hand up to my mouth as if I was telling them a secret, whispering, “Did you guys smoke before this, too?”

“Bo, seriously. This actually happened, we have proof.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, show me the missing person report of your friend Barb?” I looked to Nancy cynically.

Tears quickly sprung to Nancy’s blue eyes as she swallowed slowly. “You’re such a bitch, I don’t know why I ever thought being friends with you was a good idea.”

I stood up and looked at her in disbelief. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m the bitch? As if you didn’t just waste a solid fifteen minutes of my time that could be utilized somewhere else with absolute bullshit—”

“With who? Billy Hargrove? You gonna go fuck him?”

“Jesus, Nance!!” Steve whisper-yelled at her.

“Got a boyfriend back in Illinois, I don’t need Billy for that shit. As for you, you little cunt, I suggest you stop suggesting I’m a cheating whore when you’re head over heels for Jonathan Byers while you’re dating the ex-king of the school,” I shot back—venom dripping from each and every word.

With that, I turned on my heel and marched out of her house with the worst resting bitch face in existence. Once I got out into the driveway, I realized I didn’t have my car and I also realized that I would look weak if I asked and/or waited for Steve to give me a ride, so I just started walking. Stiletto heels and pavement for a mile or so meant I was in for a treat!

I’m joking. My feet were already screaming from running around in that damn field with Billy, so I just really wanted to kill myself right then and there.

The reality of what I’d just done had settled into me. I mean with all due respect, fuck Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington for thinking I’m some idiot who might believe a wild story like that. They looked serious, but I couldn’t really tell because it was just a lot of horseshit to me—if they were serious, they’re a couple of crackheads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello loves! 
> 
> this is kinda a shitty intro to the actual storyline of stranger things but i promise it'll get better. plz don't forget to leave kudos and comments--they really do help and motivate me!! 
> 
> thanks for reading!!
> 
> b


	8. come party on a friday night.

The best part about small-town life as I would soon find out was the parties. In Chicago, there were cops everywhere because of the high crime rate and because of the city layout. But since Hawkins was much more isolated and the houses were farther apart, it was easier to have parties without them being busted by the police.

At least, this was what Steve was trying to tell me in order to convince me to go to Tina’s Halloween party tonight.

“Come on, Bo,” Steve pleaded. “You gotta come, everyone’s gonna be there.”

“I don’t know, Steve, I don’t have a costume,” I replied, exchanging the books in my locker. “You going with Nancy?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’re being Bonnie and Clyde.”

“That’s cute,” I said unenthusiastically. “Well, I always get shitfaced at parties and since I don’t have anyone to go with, I’m not feeling the option between drunk driving because I know I have zero self-control or the alternative being to leave with someone I barely know and get fucked!” The last part I said cheerfully in a sarcastic way, and then my face dropped as I slammed the locker shut.

“You can come with us, Bo.”

“I don’t think Nancy and I are exactly on speaking terms since I called her a cunt, Harrington.”

The bell rang and everyone started to go to class, including me who started walking away from Steve.

He shouted after me, “Go, you’ll have a blast!!”

I threw up the hang-loose symbol in response with my hands and turned the corner down the hall towards English with my favorite teacher, Mr. Bennett.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Bennett spoke loudly in an attempt to quiet down our class once the bell rang for class to start. “Since it’s Halloween, I wanted to do something fun for a change, and I decided that your assignment for the day will be to work with your desk partner and come up with a short story.”

Mass groans filled the room, including one of my own until Bennett waved his hands around in dismissal. “They have to be scary stories—Halloween related. And school appropriate for God’s sake! Alright, get to work, you have an hour.”

I turned to Billy who was seated next to me. He had been incessantly staring at me the whole time Bennett was speaking, but once I turned my attention over to him, he tore his eyes from me and looked down at the desk.

“Seriously, Hargrove? Still pissed off about the other day?”

No answer.

“Well, we have to work together for this assignment and I know you don’t like Steve but that doesn’t mean I don’t and I’m not just gonna drop someone I’m friends with for your sake, full offense.”

His bright blue eyes snapped to mine and looked angry at first, but then I think he was debating on whether or not to beef with me and he chose wisely and opened his mouth at last.

“Full offense? That’s ice cold, baby,” he said with a smirk on his face.

I leaned towards him on my elbow that was rested on the desk, “Please, love, subtly is not my specialty but I think you already knew that, huh?”

He kept a playful look in his eyes while giving me a flirtatious smile. “I’d expect nothing less, and you know I’ll be making sure you live up to that tonight with what I’m sure is gonna be a costume to remember, to say the least.”

I cocked my head to the side, a smirk on my face now. “Oh, yeah? What are you going as?”

“Not dressing up, sweets, I’d have to kick my own ass for that. But may I have a sneak peek into the costume that will make an appearance between the two of us tonight?”

Considering I wasn’t planning on going, but now kind of had to, I panicked a bit and said, “Of course not, it’s a surprise.”

And so, while we chatted about the party and half-assed our way through the short story that wasn’t even going to be graded, in the back of my mind, I was searching for any quick costume ideas that would still wow because I am not one to go sub-par on just about anything.

As soon as I got home, I rushed up the stairs and into my room to find a costume. I ravaged through my closet, looking for something to ostensibly pass for Halloween when the phone next to my bed rang. I looked at it oddly for a moment, wondering who the hell had this number, and then realized I should probably pick it up before it stops ringing.

“Bo Hughes—”

“Hey, baby,” a familiar voice sounded through the landline.

“John! Oh my God, how did you get this number?” I asked, sliding down the side of my bed excitedly.

“Shawn gave it to me before you guys left because he knew you’d forget to,” he replied while I silently thanked my brother for doing so.

“How are you? How’s Chicago without me?” I laughed.

“It’s so good to hear your voice, babe, I miss you. We all do.”

“Is school out yet?”

“Nah, but I’m here with the whole group because they wanted to say hi!” John stopped speaking and the phone sounded like it was being moved before I heard several of my old friends’ voices yell, “WE MISS YOU, BO!”

A smile instantly sprang to my face with the wave of nostalgia that washed over me. “Hi, guys!! I miss you, too!”

“Oh my God, Bo, this place just isn’t fun anymore, come home soon, bitch!!” My best friend, Ruby Jones screamed through the other end.

“I will! I will!” I replied, laughing.

“Alright, alright,” I heard John faintly in the background. “Hey, Bo, I was wondering if I could maybe come down there for the weekend?”

My mouth dropped and I bit my lip, “There’s a Halloween party tonight, bring a costume.”

“Ooo, sounds good. Will there be booze?”

“Of course, what kind of Halloween party doesn’t have booze involved?”

He laughed, “You’re right. Yeah, I’ll come, why not? What are you going as?”

“That,” I sighed, glancing at the pile of clothes that avalanched out of my closet, “Has yet to be determined. Do you have my address?”

“Yup, Shawn gave me that one, too.”

I grinned. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

“Ight, Bo, I gotta go, see you soon, too. Love you.”

“Love you too, John, bye.” And with that, we both hung up.

The clock on my nightstand told me it was 2:26 pm, so that meant I had exactly 6 hours and 34 minutes to get ready for this damn party. I had to make room for about an hour to eat dinner beforehand. 5:34. Then I needed to shower, shave, and moisturize and all of that jazz (because Lord knows what might happen tonight ;)). 4:34. Hair. 4:04. Makeup and getting dressed. 3:34. Oh, and clean my room and change my sheets. 2:34.

So, in conclusion, I had about two and a half hours to try to find a good costume and then squeeze in a good cry because I won’t be able to find one. Solid.

The doorbell rang around 7:30 pm while I was applying mascara. With my hair still wrapped in a towel and only my robe on, I opened the front door, expecting to see my boyfriend.

“Did I catch you in the middle of something?” Billy Hargrove asked, feigning innocence while leaning up against the doorway.

I sighed and peeked behind him to see if John had arrived yet. To my disappointment, he had not.

“What are you doing here? I can’t let you in,” I told him.

“And why is that, love?”

“My boyfriend, John, is supposed to be here any minute and he’ll kick your ass if he sees you with me in a robe.”

Billy paused. “Is that so?”

“Is what so?”

“You have a boyfriend?”

“That hard to believe? I’m almost offended. But, yes, I do, thank you very much.”

He put his hands up in defense, “Okay, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t making him up to make me jealous.”

“Oh my God,” I scoffed with an eye-roll. “If you could please get your head out of your ass that’d be grand.”

He flashed me a sexy smile with a quick eyebrow raise and I laughed. I put my hand on the door, signaling to him that I was actually serious about him leaving.

“Okay, damn, I’m going. See you tonight?” He winked.

I gestured to my robe and winked back at him. Billy chuckled and shook his head, walking back down to his car that was parked on the side of the street. I may or may not have taken a bit longer than normal checking out his backside but hey, can you blame me? Men in tight denim is a sight that I cannot look away from.

I shut the door and bounded back up the stairs and into my room to finish getting ready.

An hour later, my doorbell rang again while I had just put the last bobby pin in to secure my wig.

“Shawn!! Can you get the door, please?!!” I shouted out of my doorway. I heard Shawn groan about having to get up off the couch and I rolled my eyes. I slipped into my white dress and fastened my fake diamond earrings, followed by my white high heels. Marilyn Monroe wore shorter heels with this outfit but I was feeling the high ones tonight. Maybe it was because I’m not completely dedicated to the role or maybe it’s because I’m a short motherfucker, but who really knows?

I clicked down the staircase as I listened in to my brother and my boyfriends’ conversation—which quickly ceased once John turned to see me.

I had almost forgotten how handsome John was. His candy green eyes were accented with small specks of gold in them—giving them the appearance of a jewel. His hair was shaved on the sides, and the front curls were styled to the left side to fall down in front of his eyes. He had bags under his eyes—not from sleep deprivation—they’d been like that since I met him six years ago. And along the lower part of his orbital bones, there were defined lines that made his eyes look sunken—an attribute that made the ladies melt. I’m not ashamed to say myself included.

“You never disappoint, Ms. Monroe,” he flirted, wasting no time in kissing me. It was familiar and nostalgic and longing. And I loved every second of it.

However, my eyes quickly shot open and I pulled back. “Red lipstick!!”

John looked like he had just drank blood from someone’s neck—his lips were all red. My brother was laughing while walking towards the kitchen to presumably get John a napkin. I slid out of my shoes and sprinted up the stairs, into my room again, and fixed my mouth, which looked awful by the way. I decided to put the lipstick in my bag in case this happened again tonight. Putting my shoes back on, John and I said goodnight to Shawn and we were off to Tina’s.


	9. glory to the queen.

On the invite, the party said it started at 9:00, so naturally, John and I drove around for half an hour not only so we could be alone for a bit and catch up, but also so we could be the dramatic bitches we are and have a fashionably late entrance.

John decided on being Elvis Presley, which I just couldn’t help myself from poking fun at.

“Oh, come on, John. Elvis? How did I actually know you were gonna pick Elvis?” I teased.

He laughed, “Because you’re an old lady who’s obsessed with him even though he was in his prime like thirty years ago.”

“Yeah? Fuck off,” I joked, “You picked him because he’s my favorite?”

“Eh, more like ‘cause I didn’t have another costume on such short notice.”

“Fucker,” I took my right hand off the wheel and punched his left shoulder. “Don’t think I forgot that you wore that last year.”

“It’s not like anyone’s gonna noticeeeee,” he sang.

I fake-pouted my lip and turned back towards the road completely. “I did.”

John slid across the front bench of the Impala until he was seated right next to me. He leaned his head down until it was inches from my neck and took a whiff of my perfume, while his exhale gave me goosebumps. He made a small sound at the familiar fragrance and leaned in a bit further to allow his lips to ghost over the nape of my neck while simultaneously creeping his fingers up to the inside of my thigh. My eyes closed as a reflex but snapped open a few seconds later because I realized I was driving and I might need my eyes for that.

“John,” I said, but it only came out as a whisper.

He still had his head buried in my neck, blowing cool air ever-so-slightly to raise goosebumps—knowing this would make me quite disoriented. “Mm?”

“I’m driving, babe.” I hit the gas and sped towards Tina’s, knowing that he wouldn’t let up until I gave in.

“Mhm, and...?” Told you.

“I gotta focus so I don’t kill anyone…”

“Who’s out at this time to kill, Bo?”

“Children!! It’s Halloween, you dumbass,” I scoffed.

He sniggered, “Really, Marilyn, I completely forgot.”

I rolled my eyes and quickly pulled over to the side of the road behind another car, a few houses down from Tina’s. As soon as I pulled the keys out of the ignition, I turned to John and he swiftly swung my right leg next to him and pulled me underneath him. I thought he was going to go for my lips, but he surprised me with a wet kiss to my jugular, trailing down and down until he got to the neckline of my dress.

“John, let’s party first,” I suggested, a bit out of it already because of his actions.

He pulled away at once. “What?”

I sat up on my elbows and looked at his confused face. “We should get to the party first, we’re already half an hour late—”

“Are you actually not gonna fuck me right now?” He interrupted, clearly annoyed.

“Uh,” I gave him a look. “No? I’m not in the mood right now and I don’t wanna ruin this look that was meant for the par—”

John interrupted me again, this time his voice raised. “Really? You’re concerned about your makeup and costume getting ruined? What about spending the night with me? Wasn’t that the whole purpose of me coming down here?!”

I gently pushed his chest back so he sat on the passenger side and so I was able to get up properly. “Are you fucking kidding me, John? I had plans to go to this party before you even called and it’s the first major one of the year, so I’m not letting you fuck this up for me!”

“All you fucking care about is partying! Why aren’t you paying attention to your boyfriend?”

“John!!” I scoffed. “I am paying attention to you!! I invited you to come with me and we can fuck later, but I want to go see my fucking friends if you don’t fucking mind.” I said the last part through gritted teeth and opened and slammed the car door shut quickly, leaving him.

After a moment, I heard the other door open and shut and then there were some shuffling footsteps that followed. I knew he didn’t want me to leave him all alone in a town he’d never been in—and I knew there was no way he’d actually go into the party without me. Despite his charm and handsomeness, John was such a ditz and could be very awkward if you put him in the wrong situation. And he knew I knew I was doing just that. So he had no choice but to follow me. He eventually caught up to me and I led him towards Tina’s house—where people were already throwing up and heavy rock n’ roll was blasting.

The first group that caught my eye was the basketball team—who had become quite fond of me over the few weeks I’d known them. Billy had told me it was because all of them wanted to fuck me (including himself, several times), but they also had respect for me because I could be “one of the guys”. Except for Freckles, of course.

Speak of the devil, the first person to catch my eye was the new king himself. He looked like he had already been drinking, but he was still so hot, and I could tell John saw me slightly swooning.

“Who’s that guy?” He asked from behind me while we advanced on the team.

I smirked and glanced back at him, “My best friend, actually.”

John’s facial expression was absolutely priceless. Jaw dropped, eyebrows raised. The whole package.

I turned back to look at my friends and the man himself and I made eye contact. He broke out into a smile and pointed at me with both hands out in an obnoxious, drunken fashion and yelled,

“THE BADDEST BITCH IN THE FUCKIN’ GAME!!”

The team cheered for me, as did pretty much everyone around them—drunkenly yelling my name and the like. Billy strutted over to me and offered me his hand, to which I took—knowing what followed. I flexed my biceps in an obnoxious way, showcasing my sleeves of tattoos that contrasted against the innocence of the white Marilyn Monroe dress.

“My queen,” he mumbled with a slight bow, kissing my knuckles while maintaining eye contact. I grinned back at his gesture of affection.

I’m sure John was loving this.

Then, Billy proceeded to twirl me around so I landed backward in his arms—which took the breath out of me quite quickly. To my surprise once more, he bent his knees and placed my ass on his right shoulder, then stood up, steadying me with his strong arms. I laughed and laughed while the team whooped and quickly got my name as a chant across the entire party.

“BO! BO! BO! BO!”

I couldn’t stop smiling as I pumped my fist in the air every time they said my name—the attention absolutely intoxicating me, even more so than the alcohol and weed aromas that filled the air. Billy smiled up at me and I looked down at him admiringly while I kept my hand on his head—not only so I could have an anchor to hold onto if he were to misstep, but also because, and I can’t lie, I loved how soft his hair felt between my fingertips.

I was sucked out of my moment when Billy used his arm not steadying me to pass me a canned beer. I gladly accepted and shook the beer quickly, then pressed just the right spot with enough force towards the bottom of the can, opened the top of the can, then shotgunned it in about six seconds.

Everyone went absolutely apeshit.

I couldn’t believe no one had seen that done before—or maybe not by a girl? I wasn’t sure, but it was actually really funny to watch everyone go buck wild over one beer. Billy was extremely impressed himself, giving me a nod of surprised approval. He passed me a joint, which I also gladly accepted, and took a big ass drag.

I immediately started nodding along with the music that blared from Tina’s house. I took a few more long hits from the joint before it was finished, and I was already feeling great. Being high was so much better than being drunk, but being crossfaded trumps all alternatives.

Billy watched me finish the joint and drop it to the ground where he knew I knew he would step on it to put it out. He jumped slightly, pushing me off his shoulders and putting me out in front of him, twisting me ever so slightly, so that my shoulders landed in his left arm and my legs in his right—kind of like that cliche 50s swing dance move. My heart pounded a million miles a second, partly because I was getting high and was sensitive to quick changes in movement but also because I just can’t say someone’s done that to me before. He kind of held me there like we had just finished a waltz—both of us just...looking. More like staring, actually—him as breathless as me. I was getting “lost in your eyes” vibes because it was true. We were lost in each others’ eyes.

I was there with John, I remembered. And he’s my boyfriend and I do love him. But Billy was fucking exciting as hell and he did extravagantly adrenalized shit like this that always kept me on my toes. And then when he wasn’t it was because we were too enraptured with one another—either jokingly or not. I’ll admit, I am quite attracted to him, and he doesn’t let me forget that he’s down for me as well. But I do love John and I’m not the cheating-type despite my image.

“Well, doll,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “That was quite the entrance.”

I reached up to the side of his face, tucking some of the hair in his mullet back behind his ear, “Only for you, darling.”

“Only for me? Then who’s that fucker over there who looks like he’s seen a ghost?” Billy asked, presumably about John, who I had almost completely forgotten was actually here.

I almost jumped out of Billy’s arms at his mention and glanced over to my boyfriend, who did, in fact, look like he had been spooked—just staring at Billy and me for (odds are) the better of the last five minutes.

Once we made eye contact, John’s persona completely changed. He looked at the ground for just a moment, then readjusted his shoulders, and looked back at me with the devil in his eye. His face was cold, but he didn’t sneer or anything like that, he just appeared suspicious of Billy and I’s relationship.

“Best friend, huh?” He mocked, shoving past me. My nose flared in anger and I turned around to yell at him that that was literally just us being friends like that’s how we always were. And I had several witnesses to back me up. But Billy beat me to the punch. Almost literally.

The blonde roughly grabbed John’s shoulder, turning him to face him—Billy with murder in his eyes and John with apathy in his.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are—”

John pushed away from him and pressed his index finger against Billy’s chest, “No, I don’t think you know who the fuck I am—”

“Alright!” I interrupted before things got way out of hand. “You’re both assholes, we get it.”

Both men wouldn’t let up from their little staring contest. Billy looked like he was inches from knocking John’s lights out, so I decided to push them a bit further apart and stand in the middle. 

“Billy,” I gestured to John, “this is my boyfriend, John Davis. John,” I gestured to Billy, “this is my best friend, Billy Hargrove. You can both chill the fuck out right now, thanks.”

The latter caught my eye and I think he picked up on how deadly serious I was about not fighting. ‘Not worth it,’ I mouthed to him. The blonde looked from me to the guy behind me, a different emotion in his eyes for the two of us. He stared back at me and swallowed—almost physically swallowing his pride, at least for the moment—and stepped back a few feet.

“You touch her again?” He said lowly and 1000% seriously, “You deal with all of us.” He motioned to the basketball team sitting behind him, including himself. “Capisce?”

I turned to John and hoped he wouldn’t do anything rash—and he didn’t. He just scoffed and walked away, into the house to most likely get some booze.


	10. pissed-off pretty boy.

“Forty!! Forty-one!! Forty-two!!” Everyone drunkenly chanted in sync—followed by cheers once Billy was lowered from the keg at 42 seconds. He spat out beer in a yell of victory, letting the fermented liquid dribble down his chin and down onto his open chest messily. Tommy and the rest of the team were yelling with him, while I stood over by the edge of the house watching them have their fun. Tommy passed him a smoke, and Billy gladly accepted and took a long, sweet drag.

“THAT’S HOW YOU DO IT, HAWKINS, WOOO!!!” The blonde boasted, getting bro-hugged from all around and lustful looks from the ladies—something I was sure he was used to, something that he clearly reveled in.

Once his friend group calmed down, the new King of the Keg started spinning around with a puzzled look on his face until he caught my eye and I raised my cup in salute. He smirked and broke away from his intoxicated clan surrounding him in glory as he stumbled his way over to me.

On his way over to me, more than one girl stopped him in his tracks—at different times, of course—and they each were very handsy, what with him only wearing a leather jacket and leather pants, nothing else. Billy only gave each of them half a glance, followed by a look back to me, then a silent removal of their hands from either his jacket or his bare chest. He would then sidestep them and continue toward me.

“You wanna try the keg?” He asked loudly, about ten feet away and closing. Obviously, the beer had an effect on him and made him far drunker than he was when I’d first arrived.

“It’s alright, love, I’m gonna stick to my spiked punch for now.” I waved my red solo cup in his face childishly. “Besides, I have a dress on and I don’t think I’m ready to let the team know me like that if you catch my drift.”

“Oh, come on,” he persisted. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”

“If I go up on that keg, I will be your buzzkill because my personal record for a keg is forty-four seconds,” I argued back with a playful look on my face.

Billy took no caution in hiding his surprise. “No way, babe. Bullshit. Gonna need some proof to believe that one.”

“And I’m gonna need Jesus if I do that keg stand in this dress—”

“You’re gonna do it?!” He yelled boyishly.

“No!!” I whisper-yelled back. “I don’t have anything on under this, Billy.”

“Damn, no shorts?”

“No nothing,” I replied, eyebrows up, taking a sip from the spiked punch I’d been babysitting for the last few minutes.

Billy’s head fell back and his mouth was wide open and he let out a borderline-pornographic moan—a sound so hot, I actually choked on my punch for a moment—exaggerated to make me laugh, of course. His tanned, beer-stained skin gleamed in the light that emitted from the house behind us—giving him a slight glow. He just stood there for a moment, staring up at the sky, breathing a bit heavy—thinking about something or perhaps pondering what I said? I couldn’t be sure. I did, however, take that moment to admire him—for the second time that night.

His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed in what seemed like slow motion, and my eyes traveled further down. They met his exposed chest which was so nice to witness, Jesus Christ. John was toned: he had a defined chest and abdomen. But this man in front of me was very...different. His chest had the real-deal muscle to it—the kind of chest that’s incredibly soft when you sleep on it, much like a comfortably firm pillow, but when these muscles are flexed, they’re hard as rocks.

I wanted so desperately to reach out like those other girls had and feel what they felt—but I knew my place. Even intoxicated, I knew that would be all sorts of wrong and it would cross a line that neither John nor Billy nor myself would let me go back from.

However, looking wasn’t a crime. And so that’s what I did. My eyes drank in what I couldn’t have. And how I fucking wanted it. “Thou shalt not covet” my ass.

I couldn’t believe my drunken thoughts, but I hadn’t realized how much I truly lusted for the human being in front of me until I had all of this alcohol in my system. Our back and forth banter and flirting were incredibly different than how my and John’s relationship functioned. Like I said earlier, Billy Hargrove is exciting and he won’t let me forget it. And I want to have fun, but that isn’t fair to John—even if he’s an asshole, I still love him.

And so I looked. And the wind blew, moving his jacket slightly so that I could see more—particularly what I wanted to see the most: the v-line. Well, if I’m really going to be honest: the second most. ;)

His V-Line was absolutely breathtaking. I actually silently gasped. V-Lines were my weakness as a woman and I believed it was an underrated male feature. See, John’s was outlined, but had no depth to it and really looked like just that—an outline. But Billy’s was on a different level. His abs were packed with muscle, so they stood out from his hips, making the “V” incredibly chiseled. I had to take a sip from my drink because my mouth was getting drier than I care to admit.

After what seemed like an eternity but was, in reality, a few seconds, Billy returned to Earth and ogled at me.

“What?” I inquired, looking around and down at myself, trying to see if something was wrong.

He came at me quickly and I almost dropped my cup—my arms flew in front of me in a defensive position as a reflex. Billy stopped quickly, recognizing my stance and the bit of fear in my eyes.

“I wasn’t gonna hurt you, I…” He silenced for a moment. I swallowed hard and brushed it off. He took the last few steps towards me until he was completely in my personal space—less than an inch from me. The beer on his chest made my dress stick to it once the wind blew again.

“Does Davis—?”

“No,” I cut him off sharply. “He’s a dick but he’s not that bad. My dad did when Shawn and I were kids, though, so that’s what that little spasm was…” I noted coldly with a humorless chuckle.

I saw this foreign look on his face and figured it was of pity. “Don’t pity me, if that’s what that look is. I haven’t seen him in about a decade anyway so who really cares anymore?” I laughed cynically. “Anywho, what were you going to do if you weren’t gonna hit me?”

“What? Oh, I was gonna do this,” Billy subsided his momentary confusion by placing his left hand on my cheek and the other on my waist, pulling me to him so we were literally chest to chest. I put my hands on him, just to establish a bit of distance just so I could look up at him properly. His chest was very sticky, almost dewy, but very soft—I didn’t mind it actually because the muscles underneath my fingertips were exactly how I’d imagined they were, flexing and relaxing with each move. His bright eyes shined, moving slowly from one feature of my face to another: my eyes; then my wig, where his hand had rested and he smiled slightly; then my nose; then finally down to my lips where they lingered a bit too long.

When he spoke, it came out as just barely a whisper—his breath hot as it hit my face. “Why do you have to be dating him?”

“I love him, Billy,” I whispered back sadly, looking at the desperate need showcased on his features—his voluminous, black eyelashes accentuating the emotion in those impossible robin’s-egg blue eyes.

“Do you? Do you love him?” He questioned boldly, making me furrow my brows—not in anger but in thought. “Not to pat myself on the back, but I know you like me—”

“I do like you—” I interrupted.

“Romantically.” He shot back quickly. I opened my mouth to protest but he cut me off before I could get a sound out. “And don’t say you don’t ‘cause that makes you a liar.”

“Billy,” I pleaded, staring back up at him, not wanting to fight him about this. “I can’t do this, you know that. I’m not a cheater.”

“You can cheat, Bo, it’s okay when you don’t love them, and you don’t love him—”

“Yes, I do—”

“Jesus Christ, Bo, no, you don’t and you know it!!” Billy raised his voice, cutting my doubt off. People around us stared for a few seconds until Billy glared at them and they went back to minding their own business. “You don’t fucking love him. And I can’t do more than half the shit I want to do with you—and to you—because of your fucking stupidity—”

“Why can’t you fucking accept that I’m in love with someone that isn’t you?!! Huh?!! Are you that fucking conceited?!”

Billy got this crazy look in his eye when I said that and to be completely honest, I really thought he was going to strike me. I really did. He seethed, took a big ass breath, and shook his head a bit in denial. “You wanna know why Bo? Do you?!!! Because you can’t get your head out of your own ass, wake the fuck up, and see that you aren’t happy!!”

I took an angry, shaky breath while tears stung the corners of my eyes and I could feel my throat closing. “You don’t know shit about me to even try and tell me how I’m fucking feeling, Hargrove. Why don’t you mind your own fucking business??”

“I don’t know shit about you? So the last two months count for absolutely nothing? And if they do, then what about being here? What’s your fucking excuse for that?” He fired.

“What?” I stepped back in confusion. His question had caught me off guard.

He stepped towards me again and looked me dead in the eyes. “Why are you here—at a shit party—instead of at home or wherever with your boyfriend?”

“I’m here with my boyfriend, it’s a compromise—”

“Why did you come here, Bo?” He asked—his gorgeous pink lips just centimeters from mine, his nose lightly brushing mine as well.

“What?” I scoffed breathlessly.

He sighed in annoyance. “Did I fucking stutter?”

“Fuck you,” I insulted, pulling out of his grasp until he caught my hand and turned me back around.

“Why?!”

“I wanted to get plastered with my friends, that’s why, Billy,” I replied with a large amount of frustration, throwing my unoccupied arm out to my side in annoyance.

“You’d rather be crossfaded than fucking your boyfriend right now?” I didn’t move or speak—almost awestruck by his question—and Billy dropped my hand. “I don’t even need to say anything else, Bo. Sounds like your relationship’s goin’ great.”

He turned away and began to head back to his friends before I called after him. “Why do you even care? It doesn’t affect you!”

He said nothing but simply threw up a middle finger as he strutted away back to the keg, not even looking at me.

I narrowed my eyes—it pissed me off beyond compare that I couldn’t convince him he was wrong and that he was being so stubborn about this whole thing. Apparently, I needed to work on my arguing skills or else that dream job of becoming a lawyer is out the window.

Was he right? Was I miserable?

I sauntered back inside Tina’s house towards the punch bowl, when I saw Nancy and Steve getting into it. Nancy seemed to be almost blackout drunk and Steve actually looked quite painfully sober, despite my impression that he was the previous Keg King. Maybe he just wasn’t in the mood. The brunette girl made eye contact with me, said something snippy to Steve, and sashayed away. It quite literally looked like she was sort of shuffling because of how much alcohol she had consumed already.

“Trouble in paradise?” I teased, nudging the kid next to me a bit. He nodded, a bit of true sadness in his eyes while he watched Nancy dance away from him into the sea of people in Tina’s living room.

“She’s been having a lot of trouble lately with Barb’s death—like processing and all the lying and stuff,” he explained quietly—even though it was hard to hear over the Mötley Crüe song that was blasting through the speakers in Tina’s living room.

“Lying? About what?”

“Like to Barb’s parents. About her death. They think she’s just disappeared but we know differently—”

“Wait. Hold on. You—you were serious about that stuff?” Disbelief wasn’t hard to find on my face.

Steve nodded solemnly. “I fucking wish I was lying, Bo. This shit’s crazy and terrifying and not possible, but it’s all true.” He paused. “It’s all true.”

My mouth was wide open, shocked. I actually believed him, which was even crazier than what I was believing. The pure sincerity in his brown, sad eyes could not have been faked even if he was an actor or a professional liar or some shit. It was all true.

“Well,” I took a breath, downing what was in my cup in a second before refilling it. “Tonight is just a night of revelations for everyone, now isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Steve replied to my technically rhetorical question. “Oh, by the way, Bo, I just saw your boyfriend a few minutes before you came in here, I think I saw him go out the back.”

Which one? Inner me mocked. I internally rolled my eyes back.

I tilted my head back in exhaustion. “I can’t believe I have to deal with that motherfucker now.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up quickly at my disappointed tone. “Oops,” I said, not a hint of apology in my voice at all. I forgot that drunk thoughts become drunk words very quickly. “What I meant to say was: Relationships are amazing!! I give ‘em a 10 out of 10 rating: would totally recommend!!”

Steve nodded mockingly at me, watching me sarcastically shoot him with finger-guns with my free hand—of course, with a forced smile on my face.

I could feel the high part of my crossfadedness start to wear down, which was always my least favorite part of parties because that’s when rooms start to spin and agitation ends up in screaming matches—which is what I feared was to come.

I stumbled through the living room and back out of the house, taking a moment to find my boyfriend. And where else would he be other than with the team? The boys' team, of course.

“Bo!!” Many of them greeted as soon as they saw me.

I curtseyed and sent them kiss-waves back, saying, “I love my fans.”

They all loved me—except for Freckles, of course. This just also happened to be the person who John was getting along with the most—which skeeved me out and probably should have been a red flag in hindsight.

“Getting along good there, fellas?” I poked, moving John aside passively with my hips in order to get to the beer kegs. I pushed the nozzle and beer shot out of it, into my cup, then turned it off once it had filled. I looked back to the two and had to laugh.

“Hey, bitch,” Freckles addressed politely, sniffling a bit towards the end and keeping his chin up to look more like a man.

“Freckles!” I joyfully greeted back with a bored expression.

“Your boyfriend, here, says you’re killer in bed. And that I should hit it—” I interrupted him with a finger in a ‘one-moment-please’ type manner. The absolute confusion that was so clearly etched on my face when I looked to John was utterly overwhelming.

“What?” I scoffed, hiding a laugh with a cough.

Freckles moved towards me, invading personal space, but staying farther away than how close Billy had gotten earlier. “I said, I want to fuck you and your boyfriend gave me permission,” he whispered the last part, I think hoping to be seductive. I snorted.

“Thanks, John,” I said obnoxiously loud, so he didn’t miss anything. He kind of just sat there and enjoyed watching me watch Freckles make a fool of himself. John did this often to spite me—especially if we were in a fight—he was never serious, of course, because he knows I wouldn’t cheat, but he did it to piss me off. It worked very well. “Don’t you, like, have a girlfriend? You know—Carol? The girl that tried and failed miserably at kicking my ass?”

“She doesn’t have to know about this, does she?”

“Well, my friend, see I would let you hit it, but you’re bitchier than me and honestly?” I paused for effect because I am that person, “From what I’ve felt, there ain’t that much for you to hit with.”

The team silenced and a few people snickered, making Freckles go beet red. I continued my verbal assault with a soft, yet threatening tone, “Please do recall that I didn’t need both hands the first time to put you in your place after grabbing my ass if I remember correctly.”

Freckles seethed while most of the team, including Billy, burst out into laughter and had to turn away from the scene in front of them to keep Freckles from killing them because he kind of already had murder in his eyes. John was confused but I was sure he knew not to interrupt my threat. I’m a very good provoker, I’m not sure if you can tell that about me yet. Even John was laughing silently, which I have to say, I didn’t expect him to even talk to me again tonight.

“Is that a fucking threat? Are you fucking threatening—”

“It’s a promise, motherfucker.”

He audibly sighed quickly, done with my shit. “You fucking bitch, I’ll—”

“You’ll…? What? What will you do? Kill me? Mkay. Fight me? Hurt me? I don’t think that shit would slide considering this whole team would hate you—as would pretty much everyone else in the school if you even managed to subdue me.” I got up in Freckles’ face—the Chicago ghetto in me coming out with my hands out, voice deep and clearly accented, and a crazy motherfucking look in my eye. “You’re running out of threats, there, Freckles, and I just can’t say that you’ll be able to make good on any of them because—and this is a real fucking promise—you’d go the fuck down before you even got the chance. You can count on that shit, you little bitch.”

It was dead silent—apart from the music. Everyone outside the house was listening to our little conflict, and everyone was holding their breath to see what happened next. The team was silent. Freckles didn’t dare speak a word. Not John. Not anyone.

“Now, you listen to me, and you listen the fuck well. I do not suggest going at it with me again or there will be fucking consequences. Plural,” I really threatened this time. Freckles swallowed and I actually saw fear flash across his face. “Do I make myself clear?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, probably still processing, and I cleared my throat I think the loudest anyone ever has that I’d ever heard. He nodded profusely.

“Say it,” I commanded.

“I—I understand.”

“Good.” I paused. “I think I’ll go home now—”

And the next thing I knew, I was at home and the sun was shining through my curtains.


	11. best of both worlds.

Wait, so you’re telling me you fucked me last night?” I asked my boyfriend who was naked next to me in my bed. Honest to God, I had no recollection of anything past ripping Tommy Hagan a new one.

John nodded innocently, appearing slightly confused. “Why, what’s got your panties in a twist?”

“John!!” I exclaimed. “I don’t remember it!!”

He scoffed and looked at me like I was lying. “You weren’t that drunk, Bo. You were able to make decisions and you didn’t say no or anything.”

“Uh, yeah, John, that’s what happens when you’re drunk. But it wasn’t obvious I was blackout drunk?” He shook his head no. “Then you’re a fucking idiot, I guess because I can’t remember a single thing after meeting back up with you towards what I assume to be the end of the party outside with the team.” I ran my hands over my face to try and make sense of all of this.

“Bo, it’s not like we haven’t had drunk sex before—I’m confused why you’re acting like a bitch about it this time.”

“Because I can’t fucking remember, that’s why!!” I yelled exasperatedly.

“What? We’ve done that before, why is this time different?”

I didn’t answer at first.

“Seriously, Bo, what’s your problem? Everything’s been off with you lately. You told me before the party in the car that we could fuck after the party and so that’s what we did. Why are you mad about this, I don’t fucking get it??”

“I don’t remember having sex with you, John, and that fucking bothers me, okay?!”

John had the dumbest look on his face like he couldn’t even believe what I was saying. How did he not know what I mean? How did he not know why I had a problem with this?

“Is this all because of that Billy kid?” John accused quickly.

I was taken by surprise, but my eyebrows narrowed. “What the fuck does he have to do with this?”

“It seems like he’s more of your boyfriend than I am nowadays. You’re all uptight now and you’re not down for me as much. Is this because of him?” John sighed with an angry expression.

“Billy has nothing to do with this, John. I told you, we’re just friends and I’ve made that explicitly clear to him too. I think I just miss you a lot and it’s hard for me to deal with us not being together all the time anymore so I’m acting like a bitch. I’m sorry,” I apologized—a bit confused about what I was actually apologizing for, but I figured it was better than continuing to argue.

John nodded and told me it was okay before taking me in for a hug. His scent invaded my nose, making me relax a bit from the familiarity of it. I missed my old life with John and my friends in Chicago. I missed so much about living there and being with them and creating memories that would last me years to come. This was the part of John I loved the most: the comfort and steadiness he provided. He was a smooth and nostalgic road to stroll down.

“Don’t be friends with him anymore, Bo.”

My arms dropped and I pulled away from our embrace wildly confused. “With who?”

“Billy.”

“What?” I scoffed, searching his green eyes for a hint of sarcasm or humor. There was nothing but legitimacy. “You actually can’t be serious, John. Are you jealous of him?”

“No, I’m not fucking jealous. I’m the one who just fucked you like eight hours ago,” He snapped harshly. “I just don’t like him and I don’t think he’s good for you.”

“You don’t think he’s good for me?” I scoffed in disbelief. “John, Billy is the male version of me. He is the epitome of me. We’re great friends—I’m not giving that up because you get a little twitchy about it.”

“What the fuck, Bo? Why not? You’re gonna choose some stranger you hardly know over your boyfriend?” John was now putting his clothes back on that were scattered along the floor on his side next to the bed.

“Billy’s not a stranger and I do happen to know a lot about him. We’re friends and I’m not sorry when I say you can fuck off if you think I’m gonna drop him because he threatens you, John Davis.”

“Then we’re done, Bo. I’m not gonna sit like a duck and wait for you to cheat on me with that guy. It’s him or me.”

My mouth was pretty much in my lap in response to the ultimatum my boyfriend was giving me. I couldn’t believe how threatened he was by Billy’s presence in my life. How could he put me so low as to say I’m gonna cheat sooner or later? I couldn’t even respond correctly to John, I just kept making stammering noises that signaled to him that I didn’t want to make that decision.

John shook his head while staring up at the ceiling. He finished getting dressed and grabbed the bag that he brought to stay with me over the weekend here. “I’m not playing this game with you, Bo,” he told me on his way to my bedroom door to leave. “Him or me. That’s it.”

He was one foot out of the threshold of my doorway when I caved. “Fine!!” I shouted back, hating myself for every word that was to follow. “I won’t be friends with him. He’s not worth it if I lose you.”

John stopped and turned back with his gorgeous smile on display. “That’s my girl.”

~~~

John had left a few hours ago—it was now Sunday night. We spent the weekend in bed, then ate a bunch of food, then had a bit of catching up, then went back to bed. It was quite uneventful other than the fact that I had to go on and lie to his face about never talking to Billy again. As fucking if.

I was sitting on my couch, thinking about how I could possibly keep up appearances with that lie for the rest of John and I’s relationship when my brother walked in the room. Shawn plopped down on the couch next to me and picked up on my weird vibe.

“Everything ok?”

“Fuck off, Shawn,” I snapped, sighing a large breath.

He looked fake-offended and put a hand over his chest like he took that to heart. “Yikes, Bo, that one hurt.”

I caved. “Fine. Say you’re super great friends with a girl and your girlfriend comes around and gets irked by it and asks you to end the friendship, would you?”

“How long have I known each of them?”

“Girlfriend is an older relationship and close friend is a newer one,” I replied, fiddling with my hands in my lap. Shawn bit his lip in thought.

“My girlfriend should respect my friendship. If she feels threatened, then her faith in the relationship is fading. If you have to worry about someone cheating in your relationship, it isn’t solid and there’s a big problem.” I stayed silent and took in his advice. “John giving you trouble?”

I nodded. “He told me I can’t be friends with Billy anymore because he’s afraid I’m gonna cheat with him.”

“I think John’s wrong, but it isn’t a stretch, Bo.”

I turned my head quickly to meet Shawn’s gaze with my eyes narrowed. “You think I’m a cheater?”

“No,” he sighed. “No, Bo, you’re not a cheater. I know that, but I could see how John would be threatened. He shouldn’t instantly assume you would cheat because that means he doesn’t really trust you with other guys, but I wouldn’t trust you around Billy either—in fact, I don’t.”

“You don’t trust me, period, Shawn,” I laughed quietly and he smiled sadly.

“Who do you like being around more?” My brother inquired after a few moments of awfully awkward silence.

“Wha—um...I’m not sure. I mean, John’s my boyfriend and I love him but Billy’s fun and we get along easier—”

“Bo, if your immediate answer isn’t your significant other then your heart isn't the relationship.”

I scoffed and crossed my arms. “Fuck you, Shawn, I know I love John. I can’t value my friends as much as my boyfriend?”

Shawn rolled his eyes at my question. “I’m not saying that, dude. I’m saying that you were incredibly hesitant to answer. Fine, then let me rapid-fire questions at you for a minute.”

My lip twitched in annoyance but I agreed anyway. Shawn knew I was too prideful to back away from a challenge.

“First question: who do you romantically like more?”

“John.”

“Okay; who makes you laugh more?”

I took a moment. “Billy and I joke around more. So, him, I suppose.”

Shawn nodded. “Who would you rather party with?”

“Billy: he’s better at drinking games and he’s wilder, it’s great.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Bo,” Shawn declared after another nod.

“Why? I was starting to enjoy this little game,” I teased with a sing-song voice.

“Did you notice what you just did?” I stayed silent, my eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I didn’t hear anything wrong with what I just said. “You answered John quickly to the first question with no explanation but for the last two you answered Billy and had to list an excuse—”

I interrupted quickly, feeling a bit attacked for my word choice. “Well, yeah, I answered quickly to the first question, it was about who I liked more, obviously I’m going to pick my boyfriend. And I was not making excuses for Bi—”

“Then what were you doing, Bo? Cause it sounded to me like you were trying to justify why in the hell you would pick this kid you’ve known for like two months over your boyfriend of over six months or some shit!! You seriously don’t see what I’m getting at?!!”

I sat there with my mouth wide open, no words available at all. I couldn’t even form a real thought. I wanted to yell at Shawn but I didn’t even know what to yell at him about. He was right, I was making excuses for Billy. I knew he wouldn’t understand that Billy is more fun for me—he’s more exciting and rollercoaster-like—whereas John can be funny, but he doesn’t make me laugh to the point where I feel a six-pack coming up.

Shawn lowered his voice now. “Bo, if John gave you an ultimatum where you have to choose between them, who would you really choose if you weren’t so goddamn stubborn?”

Who would I choose? Who is better for me? Who makes me feel better? I love John, I know I do, but he lives almost three hours away and all we do is argue when we’re together. Billy and I are just friends but he lives five minutes away and there’s hardly ever a dull moment with him.

I looked away from Shawn and back down at my hands—my fingers anxiously tapping on each other. As my thoughts swirled around my head, I didn’t even realize I was tearing up until a single tear escaped my right eye and landed on my left hand. Shawn, right next to me, noticed this and gently grabbed my hand and held it silently.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, just barely audible. And it was the truth. I did not know who I’d choose. “I don’t know, Shawn. I’m pissed off at John for ‘making’ me choose because like you said, it means he doesn’t fully trust me, which blows. And Billy’s mad at me because…” I trailed off, remembering bits and pieces about the party on Friday.

“Because…” Shawn dragged out the ‘e’.

“What?” I snapped back out of my daze. “Oh, um, we had a screaming match on Friday because he’s pissed off I’m with John and he thinks I’m not happy with him.”

My brother raised his eyebrows and gave me a look that told me essentially what we had been talking about for the past ten minutes. I rolled my eyes but Shawn wasn’t having it.

“You’re a genius, Bo. I mean so am I, but you’ve got some crazy high IQ and you skipped kindergarten and sixth grade. Your test scores and grades are amazing. You applied to all Ivy League schools and odds are they’re gonna take you. Lawyer at Stanford, right?” I nodded, confused why he was bringing this up.

He continued, “You’ve never been a dumbass, Bo. So why now?”

And with that, he got up from the couch and went presumably to his room to leave me with my thoughts. I hated this more than anything in the world. I didn’t technically have to make a decision since clearly, I’m going to lie to John’s face about it, but I hated not being able to say to John that I want both. Why can’t I have both? Why do I have to choose? They’re both terribly different but that just happens to be a great thing in my eyes. I want the best of both worlds. Is that too much to ask for?

And I still couldn’t get over the fact that John would make me choose in the first place. He may be my boyfriend, but he shouldn’t have that kind of power over my life—let alone my friendships. And what did I do about it? I caved like a little bitch. He threatened to leave me and I retreated like a pussy.

And now I had to face Billy at school tomorrow after our big blowout at Tina’s party. I’d have to look him in the eye and tell him that my boyfriend made me choose but I’m just going to lie to make him happy. What’s that gonna do? I’ll tell you. It’s gonna give Billy more fuel for his argument that I’m unhappy in my relationship because I am unhappy in my relationship—at least temporarily. I’d been pissed off at John ever since just before the party on Friday.


	12. debatably the worst monday ever.

Monday mornings normally come way too quickly for my liking, and this one was no exception. But perhaps this Monday morning was worse than the others because now I get to go prove someone right. I hated that shit. And I hated that it was at my expense.

“Bo!!” Shawn yelled through my door, scaring me a bit to wake me up. I jumped out of bed warily and hit the floor straight on my ass as my vision went a little blurry because of how quickly I got up. “It’s 7:00, you need to get up!!”

“Fuck you, Shawn!!” I yelled back in my groggy morning voice, one eye closed and the other half-open with drowsiness.

My door opened to reveal my mother with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised at me. I took my bottom lip in between my teeth and looked at the floor in guilt, feeling a bit like a five-year-old.

Before I continue, I just want to give a short description of Ms. Leanna Hughes—aka my hero. She’s about 5’4” with dark, dark hair like mine that went to her shoulders in a feathered style. She had the kindest brown eyes and her voice was incredibly sweet—it wasn’t a stretch to say she was the perfect woman to be a nurse. She always taught me to be the politest I could be in any situation (look how well I took her advice, unfortunately), and she always sees the bright side of things which can be quite aggravating if you’re trying to brood (like I often do). But I do love her—she’s the strongest person I know.

“Why are you so mean to your brother, Bernadette?” Her soft voice scolded.

“I—sorry, mum. He just woke me up really obnoxiously and it scared the crap out of me and I fell off my bed so I got mad. It won’t happen again,” I replied, eyes still glued to the floor by her white nursing shoes.

She took a few steps forward to stand in front of me properly and she put both of her hands on my shoulders. I shifted my gaze up to meet her eyes at last and I saw the sincerity in her eyes when she spoke again.

“That’s no way to get through life—by exploding as soon as you’re provoked, you know that,” she declared with a solemn look. I knew that was in reference to my father, which made me quite sad that I had reminded her of him even if it was just for a moment.

“I know, but Shawn’s just my brother, and—”

“Bernadette,” Mum interrupted sternly. “Cherish your time with him, you know he’s being stationed in Guam soon.”

I knew she was right, but Shawn and I were siblings and he knew I was just kidding. At least, I hope he does. Otherwise, he’s a softie, but he’s the one who taught me how to hold my own so I highly doubt that.

“Sorry,” I apologized again, looking back down at our feet.

“It’s alright, dear.” My mother enveloped me in a hug that I sighed into, knowing this was probably going to be the best part of my day. “Have a nice day, I’m going to be working late tonight so no shenanigans while I’m gone, okay?”

I nodded, wondering why in the world she would think Shawn and I would get into any shenanigans. We pulled out of the hug and she left my room quickly to get to her job at Hawkins Lab. I sighed again and ran my fingers through my hair anxiously before heading downstairs after her to fuel up.

Shawn was sitting at the counter on a stool watching me go through the fridge, then the cabinets, then the drawers for something to eat, while he chowed down on a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. I went back to the fridge to repeat my cycle and he decided to make a comment.

“Why did you go back to the fridge if you were just in there?” He asked despite his Cheerio-filled mouth. “Are you expecting more food to appear?”

“Precisely,” I replied dryly, to which Shawn just scoffed and went back to eating and reading the newspaper. I decided on oatmeal and while I let the kettle heat up on the stove, I went upstairs to pick out an outfit.

I decided on black combat boots, black straight ripped jeans, a white graphic tee, and my leather jacket. Once I changed, I completed the ensemble with the straightener that was already heating up in the bathroom from when my mother was in there earlier (every morning this usually happened, it was a tradition), and so I straightened my long, black hair quickly and parted my hair expertly down the middle.

“Boiling!!” I heard Shawn shout from the kitchen, so I quickly applied chapstick, then a coat of red lipstick, and I ate my oatmeal quickly before running out the door to make it to school on time.

School started at 7:30 and I walked into my homeroom at precisely 7:28, so I was grateful that not everything that could possibly go wrong today would go wrong today.

Turns out each period went by with little to no struggle, and I didn’t have English today, so that meant I could avoid having to see Billy I really wanted to. But we were also great friends and saw each other every single day, so if by chance we were to bump into one another and I deliberately walked away, he would obviously be able to tell I was ignoring him.

Today was also the first day of tryouts for the winter season of sports, so that meant I had to come back to the school at like 4:30 pm to show people I don’t care about that I’m good at basketball. I didn’t have to play, but I did enjoy having something to do during the winter since I find it to be one of the more boring seasons, plus I did actually enjoy the sport, so there’s that. And, since I already sent in my college applications, the stress of schoolwork was decreased, which allowed me to focus on other stuff—thank God.

We did, however, have to report to the gym right after school got out to sign up for the team so they had an idea of how many girls were going to be at tryouts. So I was casually walking down the halls to the gym amongst a few other girls that I didn’t know when I heard whoops coming from inside.

I opened up the doors and witnessed the boys team already there, practicing before their tryouts in 15 minutes, all hyping each other up. There were already a bunch of girls in there already, signing up. Well, there was more staring and pointing and giggling than discussing basketball, but they were all talking about Billy so I couldn’t really blame them too much. He was great at basketball and even better looking, so why wouldn’t you stare?

Maybe because your boyfriend forbade it.

I rolled my eyes at my sarcastic inner commentary and focused on the girls’ coach who was explaining the signing up process.

“Everyone, sign your full name on this white sheet of paper along with your phone number and pass it along to the next person—I want to be out of here before the boys’ tryouts start!”

I heard one of the girls next to me whisper to her friend, “I don’t,” and I had to suppress a laugh.

I was one of the first ones to sign my name on the sheet, so I was able to leave quickly. I grabbed my stuff and began to head for the door when I heard a voice shout from across the gymnasium.

“Wait!!!” I looked back and saw the boys’ team’s coach jogging towards me with a clipboard in hand.

I cocked my head to the side and looked around for whoever he could’ve been yelling for, then putting a hand on my chest, questioningly gesturing to myself when I realized he meant me. The man nodded and stopped just a few feet away.

“I want you to play for me,” He informed me with a deep and serious voice, slightly winded from his short jog.

“Play what?” I replied, eyebrows up and confusion evident all over me.

“Ball. I want you on my team, I need a player like you,” the coach responded seriously.

“Is that even allowed? Can a girl play on a boy’s team?”

“Absolutely. There’s nothin’ against it in the rulebook, I checked right after I saw you decimate my point guard all those weeks ago. Go scratch your name off that sheet, you’re playin’ for me now—guaranteed varsity spot.”

“Uh—yes, coach.” There wasn’t even a doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t enjoy this. I could picture Freckles’ face now.

And so I went back to the table set up a few feet away and crossed out my name from the near-top of the list. The girls’ coach gave me an eyebrow when I did so.

“I’m playing for him,” I explained, pointing back to the boys’ coach with my thumb. She looked almost more surprised than I did and also a bit upset that she was losing a player.

I went back to Coach Steele and we strolled together over to the other side of the court where the boys were warming up. “You bring a change of clothes?” He asked.

“They’re in my car, can I go grab ‘em?”

He nodded, “Get changed while you’re at it. Be quick, we start in five.”

“Yes, coach,” I responded automatically and started for my car. Five minutes later I was back in the gym in shorts, sneakers, high socks, and an old Bulls jersey with my dark hair tied up in a tight, high ponytail. I looked a little out of place—not just because I was the only girl but mainly because I was wearing red and black and the rest of the guys were wearing green and grey.

Whistles and catcalls filled the large, sweaty room when I re-entered and I rolled my eyes. The coach called the guys over and I joined their little team meeting circle with more than a few confused stares.

“Okay, listen up,” Steele began. “Tryouts are today, and today is for the first line on varsity.” He gave me a small glance and got interrupted before he could start again.

“The fuck’s she doin’ here?” Tommy Hagan asked so incredibly kindly.

Before I could open my big mouth and begin to actually kick his ass through the wooden floor, Coach Steele cut me off. “She’s your teammate, Hagan.”

Tommy’s face contorted as did many of the other players’. “What the fuck? Why?”

“I’ll tell you why. Because she’s fucking good and I want to win this year. Is that clear enough for you, Hagan?”

The short, obnoxious boy rolled his brown eyes. “Yes, coach,” Tommy replied monotonously with a heavy glare sent my way.

“We run these tryouts like we normally do, everybody got that?” Steele asked the team.

“Yes, coach,” the team collectively spoke.

The team broke off into two groups on either side of one basket by half court, and I spectated while they demonstrated. One side was all given basketballs and was given the option to layup or shoot a three while their partner from the other side would come around at the same time and retrieve the ball, passing it to the next person in the ball line. I quickly understood the drill—I’d done it a thousand times. Steele gave me a nod and I entered the ball line behind Steve Harrington.

“The first girl in Hawkins history to make the boys’ team, you know,” he commented, a bit of an impressed look on his features. I went to speak but was cut off again by a voice behind me.

“Yeah, that’s because there’s a fucking girl’s team.”

I just ignored Freckles at this point, knowing that the insults he was going to throw my way would never, ever stop. I was next in line and I felt his breath on the back of my head.

“Don’t fuck up your big moment, Hughes. Wouldn’t that be so unfortunate?”

I actually looked at him this time. “Can you even spell unfortunate?”

Some of the guys behind him snorted while stifling their laughter, and I turned back just in time to catch a ball coming at me. I grabbed it out of the air and dribbled quickly back and forth, once between my legs up to the basket and spun around for a layup. It went right in, no problem at all, and I shot a smirk over to Freckles who was seething. I went into the other line after a few seconds and received a few high fives from the guys around me—I assumed they just wanted to win this year too, which I didn’t blame them for.

I didn’t mind playing with the guys at that practice and I didn’t think it was that weird to be on a guys’ team—especially since I prefer the company of men to women anyway (except if it’s an entire group with the same personality as Freckles—then I’d kill myself). And for the most part, by the end of the practice, most of the team had accepted me as one of their teammates and also accepted me as a good player as well—regardless of my gender. Again, Freckles couldn’t get past the fact that I was a female on a male team and that I should be playing on the female team because “that’s where I belong” and “there’s a fucking reason we don’t have girls on this team: we like to win”. But I think his friends had outsmarted him and realized that they would be winning with me on their team—and I fully intend to pat myself on the back for that one.

“See ya later, Bo,” three of the guys called before entering the boys’ locker room to take a shower and change. I learned their names were Ryan Freeman, Peter Bowman, and Jeff Palmer. I waved and grabbed the metal handle to the girls’ locker room, but the door was pushed back into its place by a strong hand.

I was faced toward the door, but I didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who it was.

And when he spoke, his lips were just centimeters from the back of my neck, and despite me being covered in sweat, hairs were raised with each breath he released. “That was quite the show, there, princess.”

I closed my eyes as a reflex but snapped them open as soon as I realized what I was doing. “You don’t know the half of the shows I could put on, baby.”

He chuckled—a deep and low sound—very sexy to my ears, and he knew that. When he spoke again, it was only a whisper. “Let’s go take a shower.”

“Tempting,” I replied in a normal voice, “But boys aren’t allowed in the girl’s locker room.”

He scoffed. “Since when are you one to follow the rules?”

I turned to face him this time, a playful look displayed on my features. “I’m not, but I do follow moral rules.”

He cocked his head to the side in confusion, so I felt it was a good idea to enlighten him. “No cheating, love.”

“Ah,” Billy replied, annoyance evident in his voice and on his face. He looked away and rolled his eyes. “You didn’t break up with him yet?”

“No?? Why would I?”

“I thought we discussed this on Friday,” He recalled with a massive and dramatic sigh.

“Okay, Billy, well newsflash, you don’t get everything you want and I’m not dropping my relationship to fuck you once and be a one and done—”

“You really think I just want you for a fuck, huh?” His eyebrows knitted together, as did mine in response to his question. He looked at the wall and shook his head a bit in disbelief, his blonde curls bouncing around lightly.

“I do,” I stated bluntly, “And I’m not about to leave someone who loves me just because some guy got a little horny.”

“‘Some guy’?”

“Billy, you know what I meant—”

“Yeah, I know what you meant, Bo.” He dropped my hand that I didn’t even know he was holding—it was such a natural gesture now that I’d become immune to recognizing it. Billy grabbed the handle to the other locker room and swung it open but didn’t enter before looking back at me. “And I met that son of a bitch, and just from first impressions, I know for a fact that he doesn’t love you—”

“WHY DO YOU FUCKING CARE SO MUCH?!” I screamed, tears threatening to fall at his aggressive words. I didn’t understand it. He understood I had a boyfriend and that I wouldn’t cheat before meeting John. Now that he met him was he just jealous? Was it overprotectiveness or just plain possessiveness?

Billy charged at me, throwing his clothes on the floor and pushing me into the wall—not so that it hurt me, but he did it with force to let me know he was completely serious. It actually unironically took my breath away. His eyes were expressing a million different emotions but his facial features told me he was angry.

“Why do I care so much about your stupid fucking boyfriend?!” He shouted back in confirmation. I nodded my head firmly, desperately waiting for any kind of answer he could give me.

Billy opened his mouth to yell again but abruptly stopped before he gave any reason, his eyes widening and his posture changing from threatening to a slouch in a millisecond. It was like some sort of alarm went off in his head—the change was so sudden and abrupt, I think I would have missed it if I’d blinked. He released his grip on my forearms, and I gave him a knowing look. I knew he wouldn’t admit anything to me, and I was 99% sure I knew exactly he was going to say, but goddamn, I wouldn’t say it out loud. And neither would he, so he screwed himself. He swallowed and took a breath before backing away, his eyes still glued to mine.

“When you’re ready to go back to being a fucking normal human being and having a fucking normal friendship, you have my number—call me. If you ain’t ready for that, then leave me the hell alone,” I said boldly, opening the door in front of me and finally entering in peace even though I was fuming at what had just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plz leave feedback!! xo


	13. so arcades are fun.

“So what you’re saying is sine x is gonna go here instead of here because…?” I trailed, pointing at the equation written down on the math paper.

“Because if you put it over there, then tangent wouldn’t equal zero,” the blonde girl across from me, Erica, replied. 

My mouth dropped a bit at my own stupidity and I mentally facepalmed, “Ohhhhhh. I actually get it now, thanks! What’s next?”

“Uh,” Erica paused, looking at her notes, “Wow, uhm, you’re actually done. All caught up.” My face lit up in the joy that I was finally finished learning everything I missed because of the gap in the curriculum from my last school to Hawkins. “Wow, I didn’t think we were done,” she muttered to herself, looking puzzled down at everything we’d finished. 

“Not to be completely and totally full of myself, but I learn very quickly—faster than the average person, actually.” 

She nodded, eyebrows up. “Despite my expression, I’m actually not surprised, I’ve just never seen that before.” 

“First time for everything, I guess,” I replied nonchalantly, packing up my things neatly. A few kids around six years old zoomed past our booth at the arcade and ran around the corner to Pac-Man. “I’m surprised you suggested here to finish studying.”

“Oh, yeah, this wouldn’t be my first choice with all of the noise and stuff,” she paused to let me hear all of the chatting going on. “But it’s within walking distance of my house and I didn’t want to trouble you for another ride. Besides, you have an incredible amount of focus and I knew we’d get our work done anyways.”

I nodded, slightly agreeing with her. “Don’t hesitate to ask for rides, Erica, I’d like to think we’re friends.”

Her big, green eyes, peered over her framed glasses and her mouth hung open a little. “We are?”

“Yeah,” I answered, “Of course we are. You’re cool.” 

She blushed a bit and grinned at me. The blonde began to stand up and I did the same, signaling to each other that we were ready to leave. 

“If you need any help on anything, just let me know, Bo,” She said cheerily, happy with my deduction of our friendship. 

“You, too, Erica,” I winked. “And are you sure you don’t want a ride?”

She nodded profusely, “Yeah, I’m like three houses down from here, I think I can make it on my own.”

“Be careful, it’s late.” She nodded and thanked me, leaving the arcade swiftly. I couldn’t see the front entrance, but I heard the bell ring as soon as she left, and again two seconds later again, meaning someone entered. I didn’t think anything of it and just browsed around the arcade, looking at the games I used to waste my money playing for no reason. I was actually quite awful—garbage, to be more precise—at video games and I always got frustrated when I lost, so they clearly weren’t a pastime that I spent too much time on. And then I passed a game that I completely forgot about, but had a lot of fun playing despite my inept nature.   
DIG DUG.

There was a girl playing it a few feet away with shockingly orange hair with an incredibly focused look in her eye and a scowl on her face. She couldn’t have been more than a few years younger than me—my guess was either 7th or 8th grade—but she was around my height, maybe a bit taller. 

“Max!” I heard a familiar voice command from behind me. Before I turned to give him a dirty look, I saw the red-haired girl’s head shift over and she let out a sigh of defeat. “I told you I’d be here at 8 sharp, let’s go!!” 

I swung my head around and made instant eye contact with Billy Hargrove—an angry look on both of our faces. His pissed-off expression retracted for a moment when he registered who I was but then went straight back to pissed-off the second after that. “Max” took a few steps towards him to go past me but I put my arm out to the side, blocking her path. I didn’t look at her the entire time, I just stared down Billy. And he stared me down as well. It was essentially a standoff. 

“Let’s go, Max,” he forced out in the least-aggressive tone he could—still looking at me. 

I turned to the girl next to me, glaring at Billy for as long as I could before I had to look at her. I pulled back my left arm and switched my books over to that side, sticking out my right hand instead for her to shake. “Hi, Max, I’m Bo, and I’m…” I trailed, confused for a moment, “I don’t know what the hell I am in relation to that bitch over there, but hello, it’s nice to meet you.”  
She took my hand and shook it hesitantly—still with an annoyed look on her face. She did stifle a laugh when I called him a bitch, though, and I knew they didn’t get along, so I figured I’d throw her a bone. 

“Max. Home. Now,” Billy spat from a few yards away, locking eyes with me once again.   
He refused to acknowledge me other than the prolonged eye contact we were sharing, which pissed me off to no end. At least don’t be a pussy about it and make a snarky comment back.   
I looked back at Max. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, meaning I was sorry that she had to deal with him all of the time and because he was in a bad mood. 

I flashed her a small smile and strode towards the entrance—the way Billy came—and shoved past him, roughly bumping his shoulder. “Maybe be fucking considerate to other people and you won’t be in such a pissy mood all the time.” 

I mean, I shouldn’t have expected to get away with saying something like that, especially after insulting him twice before. I continued to walk out of the arcade and towards my car, grabbing the keys out of my jean pockets. The bell above the arcade rang once again right before I reached my car and Billy’s voice once again ripped through the air. 

“Maybe don’t be such a bitch all the time and you’ll actually have friends,” he shot back viciously. 

I burst out into fake, exaggerated laughter. “I have to laugh. You have the same fucking problem. The pot calling the kettle fucking black.”

“Oh my God!!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms out in front of him, a bewildered, exasperated look on his face. “You’re so fucking difficult! What the fuck?! Why are you like this, seriously?!”

“Fuck you, Billy, you’re the one who came out after me just to yell at me—”

“You’re the one who started the fucking argument!!”

“Did I?! Did I?! Last time I fucking checked, you’re the one who can’t get the stick out of your ass because I’m taken,” I informed him of the obvious.

“Fuck you, Bo, you’re being the most sensitive bitch right now, it’s almost funny.”

I scoffed and looked him dead in the eye—we were now about a foot apart. “You wanna know what I find absolutely hilarious?!” I screamed. 

“What?!” He yelled back. “What do you find so fucking funny?!” 

I shook my head with a cynical smile on my lips. “I honestly thought you were the better guy.” Billy took a step back and his face contorted in confusion—I don’t think he knew how to react to my statement. “You’re both assholes, sure, but can you believe that I thought you were better than him? He told me to stay away from you!! Th-that I wasn’t allowed to see you anymore because he was threatened by you. And you know what I thought? You wanna know what I fucking thought, Billy?! I thought ‘Fuck him, Billy’s my friend—he wouldn’t do something like this’. But you know what you fucking did anyway?! You had to go on and tell me that he didn’t fucking love me!! Do you know how much those words hurt?! Do you know what that’s like?!” 

Silence. Billy just stood there like a fucking mannequin—motionless and posed—with his mouth snapped shut and the smallest hint of regret in his blue irises that he wouldn’t ever voice. 

I laughed humorlessly. “No, of course, you fucking don’t, you’ve never been rejected by a girl in your life.” 

Silence again, but this time, Billy was breathing heavy because he knows I’m right. 

“Fuck you,” I spat. “Fuck. You. I’m done.” 

I turned away from him, tears threatening to spill over, while I fumbled for the right key to open my car door. 

“Fucking cunt,” I heard him mumble lowly under his breath. My head tilted back and my nostrils flared in anger. I slowly turned my head around to face him once again, but this time it was more 

“You want me to hit you, don’t you?!” I screamed at him, invading his personal space quickly with another step towards him. His eyes were blazing with aggression but were slightly extinguished by my words. “DON’T YOU?!”

He leaned in until he was inches from my face, an evil smirk on those beautiful lips that I perhaps stared at longer than I should’ve. “As much confidence you have, Bo, you have no fucking self-respect. Good-fucking-night, cunt.” 

I had to dig my fingernails into my palms, actually breaking the skin, to refrain from acting on my anger. I knew he was trying his absolute hardest to make me lash out at him physically but I wouldn’t. He was a good guy underneath all of the awful stuff. 

I suppose that’s not healthy for me to believe so firmly in, is it? I do make excuses for him. I’m fucking pathetic.

He got even more pissed that I didn’t react to his words other than angry, heavy breathing, so he gave me an up-and-down glance in disgust and strutted back to the blue Camaro parked in the middle of two spots like the asshole he was. And he left, speeding out of the parking lot without another word or look to me. 

“Bo?” I swiveled around, livid about what had just happened. My rage softened when I realized it was Max with a look of disbelief on her young features. 

“I’ll drive you home, kid, don’t worry. It’s probably for the best anyway. I wouldn’t wanna be in a car with that right now,” I suggested with a wave towards me and my car. She looked around and then shrugged obligingly. 

Billy’s house wasn’t far from where we were, but it was still a good drive. So Max and I had a few minutes of awkward silence before I decided to break it with some advice.

“I wouldn’t provoke him when you get home, by the way, Max. He’s mad at everything right now, he might explode.”

Max’s face contorted into one of confusion. “Why do you care about him? He’s an asshole.” 

I paused for a moment, trying to formulate an answer that would make sense to her. “I agree with you, he’s a dickbag. He has anger issues and he doesn’t know how to express his feelings—” 

“Why are you friends with him, then? I don’t get it, you’re so nice and he’s just awful,” she interrupted perplexedly. 

I raised my brows, “You clearly didn’t watch our fight in the parking lot, then.” Max stayed quiet but her blue eyes searched mine until I looked back at the road ahead of us. “Your brother is complicated and a bad person. But he’s also incredibly funny and easy to talk to. I can’t stop laughing when I’m with him and even though he can be difficult, he can be a softie sometimes, too.” Max gave me a raised eyebrow and a look of disbelief. “It’s true, believe it or not. And our personalities are almost identical, so we’re naturally great friends.” 

“You’re nothing like him,” she commented kindly (and innocently). 

“On the contrary, young Skywalker,” she chuckled at my reference, “you haven’t given me a reason to be a bitch, so I haven’t been one.” She nodded, her bright orange hair bouncing around. We stayed in a moment of comfortable silence. 

“So what were you guys fighting about? It looked really serious.” 

I shook my head yes in confirmation. “He can’t handle the fact that I’m not choosing him. Billy doesn’t like my boyfriend at all and my boyfriend doesn’t like him either—they’re both threatened by each other and each wants me to drop the other.” 

“That sucks.” 

“Yeah, it does.” 

“So who did you choose?” 

“I didn’t choose either of them. I want both of them, but that’s not enough for Billy. He thinks John and I aren’t happy together—which isn’t true—and he wants me the way John has me.” 

Max initially looked confused but then it hit her and she said, “Oh, shit.” 

“And I’m pissed off at him because 1) he can’t even tell me that himself and 2) that he can’t handle the fact that I won’t cheat on John for him. I...don’t know why I’m telling you this but I guess it’s nice to know your brother’s not a complete and total douchebag.” 

At that moment, I pulled up in front of the Hargrove residence, slowing to a stop. “Listen, Max,” I turned to look at her completely. “I know it sucks being the younger sister with a bitch of a brother, trust me, I know. My older brother, Shawn, can be the same way sometimes. But Billy doesn’t have a right to take it out on you, and so I’m going to ask something of you that I know I probably shouldn’t. When Billy’s on edge, can you please just take it easy on him? I know I sound like a hypocrite, but I care about his dumb ass a lot and he’s teetering on the edge, and I think a bit of kindness to him wouldn’t hurt at all.” 

She nodded hesitantly in understanding—I think she saw how serious I was and that it was imperative that she did this. “Okay, I’ll be nice.” 

“Thanks, kiddo.” 

“Thanks for the ride.” 

“Anytime. Seriously, if you need one after school if Billy’s pissing you off too much I won’t mind.”

She smiled a toothy, bright, and I assumed a rare smile at me. “Cool. Thanks, Bo, see you later.” I nodded back at her in response and she exited the car and closed the passenger door softly. 

When she was about halfway down the walkway to the Hargrove residence, her older brother stumbled out of the house. He looked back at the door of the home once he was down the stairs and appeared as if he wanted to scream. I immediately got out of the Impala as quickly as my feet would push me, hoping to just keep Max away from the tornado that was him.


	14. i’m done.

When I got closer, I observed that Billy had a few tears that had fallen onto his sad face. His shoulders were dropped, and his head was hung low, staring at the ground while Max passed him to go into the house. Seeing how upset he was, I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t just leave. I know we just had the worst fight in the history of fights but he really looked like he needed someone right now. I advanced on him slowly and took him into her arms lightly by his shoulders, and much to my surprise, he slumped into me in defeat. 

“Let’s go for a drive, my love,” I whispered in the kindest voice I could muster at the moment. 

I could tell he didn’t want to be alone right then, and I think he was tired of fighting. Fighting me, fighting everyone and everything. He was just...exhausted. 

I went to pull away, but his grip on my waist tightened and I went back into his arms. “Wait, I’m sorry, I just—I need…” He trailed, I figured he didn’t really know what to say. 

I laughed soundlessly—only my chest moving with a smile on my face, “It’s okay, I don’t mind, Billy.” I guided my arms to run my fingertips back and forth across his denim-clad back in a comforting way.

He let out a large breath and slowly released me from his grasp. I intertwined our hands without another word and began to lead him down to my car, but he stopped me. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked in a hushed tone. 

His voice was solemn and yearning. “I...I can’t go. I have to stay here.”

I nodded in understanding—disappointed but not mad. I gave him a lopsided, half-assed smile. “Okay, that’s alright. Um, I’d better go then,” I nervously chuckled, turning away sadly.

Before my hand left his, his voice called my name. “Bo?”

I stopped in my tracks, concerned at the fact that he actually called me by my name and not a pet name like normal. It was this that signaled to me that he truly was in a bad place right now. 

“Mhm?” I replied, my head cocked to the side. 

“Uh...” he hesitated. Billy looked like he wanted to do something or say something but something inside him was preventing him from doing it. I concluded that it was his stubbornness that wouldn’t let him. His face looked like a boy’s, it had this sort of innocence and vulnerability to it that couldn’t be faked even by the best actor in Hollywood. I took a step toward him, keeping only a few inches between us and he stared down at me in wonder—an expression I mirrored looking back up. 

“Listen, I know we’re on the outs right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that you can tell me anything and I don’t wanna be too soft, but I’m here for you no matter what.” He cracked a small, relieved grin at my statement but still didn’t say anything. I took my unoccupied hand and placed it on his cheek, forcing him to look at me in the eyes. And when I spoke it was just above a whisper, “Tell me what’s on your mind, love.”  
It appeared as though he was debating in his head on whether or not to share what he was feeling, but I already knew what the final ruling would be. He wouldn’t tell me. I think we both knew that. 

Instead, I just released his hand and took him into my arms one more time, and he actually sighed like this was what he was waiting for. This is what he wanted to ask me about. He wanted another hug. I smiled at the thought and buried my head into his neck, smelling cigarettes and beer and this natural aroma I couldn’t describe accurately to you even if I tried. It was like some kind of spicy, cologne-y, wonderful musk that honestly made me not want to let go. He squeezed me tight against his Greek-god-like body and even lifted me off the ground a bit so he wasn’t leaning too far down since my 5’2” ass could just barely reach him. If I’m being honest—and I always am—I loved how tall Billy was: not too tall so he’s a giant next to me, but tall enough so he feels good about himself and tall enough for me to reach up to because I have a bit of a thing for that. I don’t really know if you can classify that as a kink but it’s definitely on my list if I was to be asked what my type of man is. 

Another small kink is men who are normally cold, sarcastic hardasses only being soft for their significant other—meaning me. God, there is literally nothing better than knowing you have a badass bagged. 

Anyway, back to our little embrace. Billy set me back down after a few seconds and I giggled a little bit when he did so, finally making him smile at me. His arms were still wrapped around my waist and my arms were around his broad and muscular shoulders (I can’t deny the fact that I was drooling on the inside) and it truly looked like those cliche kissing moments in romantic comedies. 

I suppose you could compare my life to a romantic comedy except my best friend hates my boyfriend (and vice-versa) and I’m the only one who laughs at my jokes, so. 

Billy fixated his baby blue eyes on mine, but they quickly fell to my lips. We both took sharp breaths in as his eyes flickered back up to mine and he bit his lip. The pretty-boy blonde slowly began to inch his face closer to mine and I almost—almost leaned into him. His nose brushed mine and I cursed at myself inside for letting him get so close: I was truly teetering on the edge. The electric blue eyes I never got sick of looking at stayed glued to mine while I felt his breath fan over my face gently. 

“Billy,” I whispered. 

“Please,” he begged in a low and serious tone. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t, you know I can’t.”

“Just...just this once,” he breathed. His eyes implored mine and made me see how legitimately serious he was about this. “I need to just once, please, Bo.”

I think I hated myself the most because of the fact of how fucking badly I wanted to give him what he wanted. I preach about not cheating and everything that goes along with that, but here I was with this drop-dead gorgeous man in front of me in a tight embrace and he’s practically begging me to kiss him and I wanted to. Christ, I wanted to so bad. Those flawless and full pink lips gliding over mine, showing me how much I meant to him while he captured me in what I’m sure would be an immensely sweet kiss. I craved that at that moment. And I hated myself for it.

I broke eye contact with him and stared at his chest, refusing to grant him what he needed. “You’re fucking kidding,” Billy scoffed. He dropped his hands from my waist and promptly moved away from me so my arms fell off of him down to my sides in defeat. “You know what, Bo? You know what?” I looked back to him, tears threatening to spill over. “I hope he fucking breaks your heart. I hope to God he does.” 

My mouth dropped in shock at his venomous wish and a heartbroken exhale exited my body. His hurtful, threatening facial expression wavered for just a moment seeing how much those words hurt. “Please don’t say that,” I pleaded. “Please.”

The malicious face replaced the regretful one and he looked up at the sky before he stared back down at me. “Why?” He scoffed heartlessly. “It’s true. You told me to be honest and I’m being honest. I want him to break your heart. Just to show you how fucking right I am.”

I had to look away from the evil in his eyes as I took in his words, actually letting out small whimpers of pain. His face wavered again but he stood his ground like I knew he would. And with each atrocious insult he hurled at me, not only could I hear my own heartbreak, but I could almost hear him break as well. He may have sounded like the devil, but his face betrayed him with subtle hints to actual pain at my rejection. 

“Don’t you even dare come running to me when he does it. Don’t you fucking dare. I’m fucking done with you. Have a shitty night ‘cause I know I will.” 

And so Billy Hargrove turned back around and stomped away, retreating angrily back into his home, leaving me on his front lawn, crying. 

“FUCK!!” I screamed once I entered my car, banging my hands as hard as I possibly could on the steering wheel. My body was racked with sobs and I could barely catch my breath. I couldn’t even explain why I took his words to heart so much. I knew that’s how he felt, but hearing him say it out loud was fucking torturous. 

I knew that was hardly going to be the end of Billy and I’s relationship but how long would I be without him? Why would he even try to make a move on me when he knows I’m taken and I won’t do anything? Haven’t we established this several times over? Can he just not handle rejection? Was he secretly hoping I would give into him like I hypocritely desired? Why did this hurt to fucking much? Another pressing question: why the fuck did I want it? I love John but I was ready for Billy to kiss me and I was ready to feel something during it. What the fuck am I doing?


	15. drunk & sad.

Crying myself to sleep was something that I hadn’t experienced in years at this point. And I can firmly say that I didn’t fucking miss it one bit. 

Crying yourself to sleep is the weakest, most defeated feeling on the fucking planet because you haven’t solved your problem and, odds are, your hope to solve said problem vanishes. And, all you can do is suffer by yourself in silence because A) you don’t want to wake your family with your nonsense, or B) you’re just trying to sleep and that’s when all of your past regrets, mistakes, and wrongdoings come out to play. 

Basically, I loathe the feeling. I feel so powerless and I can’t do anything about it. Because tonight just happened to be one of those dreadful nights when I get to rethink my entire existence, giving myself extreme, unbalanced anxiety, and I get to do it alone!! Because Shawn’s not home!! Yay!!  
I tried to find alcohol or weed or something that could possibly take the edge off and guide me away from the edge I was going to fall over, but alas, Shawn and I had consumed every mind-numbing substance in this household. Plus, I remembered that Shawn was telling me he was going for a restock soon to his dealer, so I lent him probably a bit more money than I should have. What I’m trying to say is that the suffering I was going through was so much worse than many other times because I didn’t have anything to blur or dull the pain. 

I was on the edge of falling asleep after I’d finally calmed myself down enough to breathe properly and think mildly peaceful thoughts. However, the sleep I was so looking forward to was interrupted and stolen from me by a squeaking sound coming from a few feet away. My swollen eyes snapped open, knowing exactly where it was coming from—your girl had snuck out of that window too many times to not know how it squeaked. I shot up in my bed in fear and my heart raced a million miles a second while I tried to search my dark room with my eyes for any possible defenses. I came up with nothing as a large figure stepped into my room and actually tumbled to the floor through my curtains with an audible crash. 

I opened my mouth to scream but was self-silenced when I recognized the figure. He stood back up, a bit wobbly, and waddled a few feet towards my bed before tripping on what I assumed to be a shoe and falling to the floor again. 

“Ow.”

“Billy!” I whisper-yelled, getting up from my frightened position on my bed to instinctively aid him. “What the fuck?”

He rolled over to face me, his head flat on the wooden floor. “I, uhhhhh,” He paused. “I wanted to see youuuu.” 

“Are you drunk?” I redundantly asked, already smelling the unmistakable strong odor of whiskey. 

“Yesss ma'am, I am.” He giggled and hiccuped once like a child. “That rhymed, hehe.” 

I couldn’t help but smile at his foolishness, but that smile was short-lived because I realized how fucking drunk he must have been to want to see me after what just happened a few hours ago. Sober Billy wouldn’t want to see me and I was frankly surprised Drunk Billy wanted to see me, considering how pissed off he was at me—is at me, rather.

“Are you okay?” 

“Nooo,” he sang, stretching out across my floor. 

“Come on, let’s get you up,” I suggested, guiding his shoulder to make him sit up. 

“Noooo,” he said again. “I like the floor.”

I sighed, “Billy, you can’t sleep on the floor. Get in my bed.”

His head popped up from its position on the ground next to me, almost staring at me in what seemed like wonder at my words. “Your bed?”

“Yes, baby, come on.”

He excitedly cooperated with me to help him with standing up and hobbling over to the side of my bed. Billy Superman-ed onto the middle of the mattress and I silently laughed. 

“It’s so comfy, holy shit!!” He gasped.

“It’s my pride and joy, truly.” 

He nodded back to me in enthusiasm and I shook my head while he ran his hands across the fabric that covered the bed in awe. I grabbed his left shoe and pulled it off his foot slowly so I didn’t startle him— that was the last thing I needed. And I did the same with the right. And, with some difficulty, I eventually got the drunk man out of his beloved, trusty denim jacket.

“Why are you so pretty?” He asked me out of the blue when I’d finally settled into the bed and laid down. 

“You can’t even see me, Billy,” I chuckled. 

“Well I can’t really forget what you look like, gorgeous,” He spoke honestly while the bed shifted and I think he turned to face me. There was minimal light emitting from a small nightlight I couldn’t sleep without, but that was the only source of illumination in the room so you couldn’t really see anything at all. “Why won’t you kiss me? You’re the only girl that won’t,” he questioned sadly. 

“Oh, Billy,” I sighed, not wanting to talk about this right now but since he was drunk, it was going to be almost impossible to get out of it. “I have a—”

“Other girls with boyfriends kiss me,” He interrupted quickly. “It’s not fair, I see how you look at me, princess, I’m not stupid.” 

“I know you’re not stupid but you can’t get everything you want, champ.”

“I can if I try hard enough,” he reasoned.  
I flashed him a small, sad smile at his thought process. “But—”

“No but’s.” 

“Okay.”

A few seconds of silence passed. “Billy?” He hummed in response. “Why did you drink so much?”

“Because IIIIIII was so mad at you and I got in a fight so I drank and drank and drank and then drove over here—”

“You drove here?” I asked astonished that he was alright. 

“Yeah, I know you say I shouldn’t drink and drive but I wanted to see you.”

“Billy, you really shouldn’t do that, babe.” 

“Sorry, Mom,” he teased, laughing a bit at his own joke before letting out an extensive sigh. “I need to sleeeeepppp.”

“Yes, you do.” I pulled the blankets over the two of us and Billy laid his drunken head on the pillow next to mine. I put my hand out, feeling his face for a moment, and planted a small peck on his forehead. “Goodnight, Billy.” 

“Goodnight, babygirl.” It stayed silent for only a few moments before Billy broke it again. “Will you sing to me?”

I was slightly taken aback by the question. “Will I sing to you?”

“I don’t know, will you?”

“You want me to?” He nodded his head profusely, probably with that heart-melting smile on his lips that I absolutely adored. I didn’t really enjoy singing in front of other people, particularly because I knew I wasn’t good at it, but I pushed that shit down and away for him. “Okay, Billy, I’ll sing for you.”

“Yay!!”

I smiled widely at his bright reaction. “Song request?”

“Oh, oh, um...do like a slow song, I don’t really care which one.”

I pursed my lips at his request and racked my brain for a song, but before I could start, Billy shifted closer to me and put his head on my pillow, completely invading my personal space. He opened his arms and I got the signal and gave into him, adjusting so I was laying on top of him with one arm under him and the other laying on his chest. He tightly but comfortably held my waist against his and I began to slowly sing at a low volume just loud enough for him to hear.   
“Wise men say—”

Billy took a sharp intake of breath, “My mom used to sing that for me. How did you know that?”

“I...I didn’t, I just really love that song.” He stayed quiet—he’d never mentioned his mom to me before and I never asked, I figured he’d talk about it when he was ready. “Do you want me to pick a different one?”

“No.”

I swallowed sadly and continued on with perhaps the greatest love song of all time while Billy slowly slipped into the world of unconsciousness.   
“...Only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin...if I can’t help falling in love with you?”

Billy’s soft snores soon overtook him because of how intoxicated and tired he was, but I felt like singing to him just a bit more. 

“Like a river flows: surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be.” I sighed lightly, kissing his cheek softly. I felt it was owed at this point: I was hurting him because I wouldn’t cheat. I know I’m in the right, but I still couldn’t help wanting to fix it. “Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.”

~~~~~

The sun shone through the curtains and onto my face, resulting in me trying to escape the light and turn to my other side. My arm crashed into a body next to me and I jumped a little before realizing it was only Billy. Last night’s events had been so confusing so I figured I’d ask Billy what the hell happened when he’d be sober. 

‘Oh shit,’ I thought. ‘He’s just gonna say something mean and leave again, huh.’

My gaze shifted to his face and I audibly gasped. His lip was busted and there were the beginnings of bruises gathered on the left side of his face. He’d mentioned he got into a fight which, apart from his blowout with me, was the reason he drank so much last night. 

I laid back down facing the ceiling trying to go back to sleep but I couldn’t. Between the sun and the worry about what was about to happen, I was up for the day. And so I decided to let the boy next to me sleep as long as he wanted, quietly sneaking out of the bed and slipping out of my room down the stairs. It was a professional development day at our school or something, so we got the day off. 

Shawn was sitting on a barstool at our island in the middle of the kitchen, eating Cheerios again and gently massaging his temples. 

“Hangover?” I guessed, searching for some fruit that I was craving. 

“Yeah, be quiet,” he groaned with a raspy voice. 

“Well,” I said in a quieter voice, “Sounds like you had a better night than me so that counts for something right?”

He nodded, a bit confused. “Why? What happened to you last night?”

“I—”

“Fuck is this?” Billy’s voice cut me off from the kitchen doorway. He looked pale like he just threw up, but he still attempted to keep a hard facade. 

“Did you sleep with him, Bo?” Shawn asked, not hiding his surprise at all. “I mean, we talked about this, but damn—”

“No, I didn’t fuck him, you idiot. He came through my window last night—”

“He WHAT?!” Shawn roared, now standing up and advancing on Billy. I knew Billy was in no shape to fight right now so I sprinted around the island and stood in front of Billy, facing Shawn defensively.

“Why don’t I remember that? Or anything?”

“You drank your liver away, apparently,” I answered the blonde. “And Shawn, before you beat him up, just know that I was okay with it and you have no control over what goes on in my life. Love you.” I finished with a smile. 

Shawn swallowed and his shoulders dropped, knowing I was right. “Fine but it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Wasn’t meant to,” I shot back before turning to the hungover boy behind me. “You need to clean yourself up, you look like shit.”

“Fuck you,” he insulted, turning away from me, still a little bit wobbly. I walked next to him to make sure he didn’t trip and fall and guided him into the bathroom. 

“Sit on the toilet.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” he flirted, beginning to unbuckle his belt. 

“Billy, no!!” I nervously chuckled. I removed his hands from his belt and refastened it, his lusting eyes burning into the top of my head. “Put the seat down and sit. I need to clean you up.”

“I’m fine,” he resisted, staying put. 

I sighed at his stubbornness. “Please sit down before I make you, babe.” 

He rolled his eyes and obeyed, looking obviously bored. I went into the linen closet and pulled out a small first-aid kit and a washcloth. I ran the washcloth under cold water for a few seconds before I rung it out and went over to the hungover man and placed it gently on his forehead. Billy sighed at the contact of the cool towel against his skin despite his efforts to continue to look angry at me. I ignored this and went back to the first-aid kit on the counter and looked for Neosporin. Once I found it, I squeezed the tube gently, putting the sticky paste on a wound-closure strip. 

“What are you doing?” 

I responded without looking up at him, trying to get a suitable amount on the strip. “Applying Neosporin to a wound-closure strip.”

“Why?” 

Once I was done, I took a few steps towards him and knelt down on the ground between his legs. “Because you need it.” 

“No, I don’t. I’ve been in a fight before, Bo,” he hissed, blocking his face so I couldn’t put the tape on his face. 

“Billy, I’m really trying to help right now. Please let me do this.” 

He took an obnoxious sigh and lowered his arms to his side. I gave him a peaceful grin and laid the strip over the broken skin on his chiseled left cheekbone. I repeated my actions three more times, with the cuts on his chin, jawline, and nose. When I finished, I let out a breath I truly didn’t know I was holding and sat back on my heels looking at my finished work to make sure I didn’t screw anything up. 

“How do I look?” He joked, putting himself in dramatic modeling poses. 

I shook my head at his stupid joke and stood back up. “Like a LA babe.” 

“Hot, then,” he agreed. 

“Yeah, I’d fuck you,” I said dryly, laughing inside at my own joke while cleaning up the rest of the first-aid stuff. 

“Hilarious, Bo,” Billy snapped. 

“It’s not my fault you’re in love with—” I stopped before I said it, knowing he’d lose it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Whatever, Bo,” he grumbled, shoving past me out the door. I followed him hastily out the front door but discontinuing to do so at my front steps. Billy continued down the walkway to his car, lazily parked in front of my house, searching his pockets for his keys. He checked his jacket, front pockets, and back pockets to no avail. It hit him where they were and he marched back up the house with a huff. “Give me my keys, Bo.” 

“I don’t have them,” I denied innocently. He slapped the house wall behind me with a force big enough to make me jump. 

“Don’t bullshit me, I want to leave. Give me the fucking keys.” 

“Fine,” I caved. “I have them. But you need ice and you need to eat something.” 

“I’m fine. Give me the keys.” 

I turned on my heel and strutted back into the house, knowing he would follow. “You’re hungover and dehydrated and probably starving.” I threw him a glance over my shoulder to where he stood, just outside the threshold of my medium-sized home. “Stay for a while.”

He stomped into the house without closing the door, having absolutely no intention of staying. “Bo, give me my fucking keys, I swear to God.” 

“Billy, do you know that you don’t have shoes on?” 

“What? Yes, I do—” He was cut off by himself after looking down and realizing that he’d been in his socks the entire time. His cheeks flamed red for only a moment before his angry face went back to its place on his features. “Bo?”

“Mhm?” I hummed, fixing both of us breakfast. 

“Are you stupid?”

I stopped in my tracks, slowly turning around to look him in the eye. “What?”

“Are. You. Stupid?” He enunciated again. I stayed silent, my mouth hanging open a little, trying to figure out why he was asking me that, not knowing that was something I was sensitive about. 

“Considering I only applied to Ivy Leagues for college, I hope I’m not stupid,” I replied, trying to hide my hurt. 

He rolled his eyes and his top lip twitched in annoyance. “Good for you, then.”

My eyes narrowed at his actions. “Why? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a dick,” I scoffed, going back to what I was doing so I wouldn’t start getting upset. 

“You’re stupid, Bo. I’m clearly getting angry and I clearly want to leave and you’re being stupid and making me stay which will blow up in your face.”

I wasn’t facing him when I let out a breath at his words. A relieved breath. I really thought he thought I was dumb, damn. “Are you threatening me?” I queried, still not looking at him. 

“Promising.” 

“Your self-doubt is overwhelming, my friend. You think you’re going to explode and I’m gonna get hurt, right?” I finally turned to peep at him. He stayed silent, stammering a bit— caught. “Well, I’ll clue you in on a little secret that everyone knows. I’m a big, tough girl. I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t,” he murmured. I was shocked at his misfaith in me. 

“Yes, I can, Bi—”

“NO, YOU CAN’T, BO!!” He yelled, knocking a cereal box off the island. Luckily, Shawn had retreated back in his room already after cursing at us for our loud conversation. I took a step back against the counter behind me, breathing increasing in speed. Billy gaped back at my reaction to his aggressive motion and regret crossed his features. “I told you,” he informed, sensing that my reaction only confirmed what he said would come to pass. He knew I couldn’t stand being screamed at. Fighting was one thing, but this was just accusatory yelling. 

“I’ll give you your keys if you take this to eat and to drink,” I motioned toward the thermos of fruit I packed and another filled with water respectively. He moved his head up and down in a nod silently, so I grabbed both and went back up to my room with him on my tail. Billy spotted his boots on the floor and put those on while I grabbed the keys from a secret hiding place where I normally hid weed. I knew he’d try and drive away, and driving hungover sucks ass, so I hid them as a precaution. 

I passed him the two thermoses first and he took them with a scoff. “Promise me you finish both.” He looked at me with an eyebrow raised at my concern. “Seriously, Billy, you need the nutrients. You were trashed last night and I think you threw up this morning but I’m not gonna ask to spare you the embarrassment.”

His cheeks burned a little bit at my words, telling me I was right. I decided not to mention it. He held out his large hand and I placed the keys in it hesitantly while his fingers closed around them. I resisted his pull, gripping the ring tightly. His brows furrowed at my action. 

“Dude—” He started. 

“Billy,” I interrupted seriously. “Promise me.”

“You’re so fucking dramatic, Bo.” I didn’t let go of the ring and he let out a comparably dramatic sigh. “Fine, I promise.”

My fingers loosened on the ring, but I still didn’t let go of it. “Are you still mad at me?” 

My eyes searched his eyes, imploring him to say no. I knew he knew I was trying to keep him there to distract him from how pissed he was. He ripped the keys out of my hands without hurting me, stood up and walked out silently. 

I stared up at the ceiling, tears slipping out of my eyes one by one as he left without another word.


	16. the kids are not alright.

“You ok?” I heard my brother ask from behind me. I shifted my position on the couch to turn and face him, still eating the cookies n cream ice cream I was halfway done with. 

“Yeah, why?” I lied. 

“‘Cause you’re eating a whole tub of ice cream and watching TV but the TV’s not even on,” he reasoned, pointing towards the small box that sat across the room, off. 

“Would you look at that,” I chuckled humorlessly. My attention went back to the ice cream and I turned away from Shawn, pulling the blanket I was under up to my neck. I felt the cushion next to me sink and braced for a lecture while continuing to scoop my favorite ice cream into my mouth. 

“What’s going on, Bo? You’re acting so fucking weird it’s annoying.” 

“Fuck you, Shawn.” 

“Seriously,” he said, snatching the tub of ice cream from my grasp. My jaw dropped and I pouted at him dramatically. “What is it?”

I stuck the spoon in my mouth and cleaned it off, looking away from him. I took a breath and set the spoon down on the napkin that lay on the coffee table in front of me. “I almost kissed him.”

“Billy?” 

I nodded my head up and down silently, looking down at my hands in shame. Shawn stayed quiet, probably not knowing what to say. I could feel myself choking up and when I spoke again, it was just barely a whisper: “I’m gonna lose him, Shawn.”

“No you won’t, Bo, you guys are too close.”

“That’s the problem, though. We’re too close,” I sniffled. “I’m gonna lose him.” 

Shawn knew he couldn’t object based on what he already knew of the situation at hand. Instead, he just lifted up his right arm and I leaned into him while he just let me cry. Tears flowed steadily out of my eyes to the point where they stung and I knew they were probably bloodshot too. My brother simply ran his hand up and down my right shoulder in an effort to comfort me by some capacity. 

“What do I do?” I asked, actually to no one in particular. 

“I dunno, dude. You’re in a bit of a pickle, here. I guess all you can do is wait it out and focus on other people,” Shawn suggested with a sigh. “Any other friends?”

I racked my mind for someone I could use to help keep my mind off of Billy and it made me realize just how much time we spent together. We never went more than two days apart. Probably a bit unhealthy, I know. It took me a moment to brainstorm other people and eventually came up with Steve Harrington. We always had laughs, so why not?

“Steve,” I whispered. “Steve Harrington. He’s pretty cool.” 

“Okay, then you should go hang out with this ‘Steve’. He isn’t friends with You Know Who, is he?” I laughed silently at Shawn’s nickname for Billy and also at the thought of Steve and Billy ever being friends. 

“Jesus, no, they do not get along.” 

“Cool, then go hang with him instead of being lazy and pathetic in here.” 

I flipped him the middle finger as I stretched from my chronic position on the couch. The thought of hanging out with Steve did dull the pain and loneliness I had right now, so I suppose it was a good thing. I trudged up the stairs slowly because of the pins and needles that were attacking my legs and feet. Fuck pins and needles—worst shit in the world. 

I eventually reached the phone and dialed Steve’s phone number and waited a few rings until he picked up. 

“Hello?”

“Steve? It’s Bo.”

“Hey, what’s up?” 

“Nothing, actually. You wanna do something?” 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll grab you in 10.”

“Cool, see ya.” 

“Bye.”

I had absolutely no idea what we were going to do, but I figured it would be better than doing nothing and being alone at home. Throwing a pity party isn’t my forte. 

~~~

“So what’s the real reason you wanted to hang out?” Steve asked, taking a huge bite out of the burger he ordered. We ended up at the diner downtown somehow. 

“I can’t just want to spend time with King Steve?” I joked, popping a french fry into my mouth.  
“Eaha, ut ee neha sben time togeva,” he said in gibberish through the large amount of burger in his mouth already. 

“Sorry, what was that?” I asked with a laugh. 

He smiled and held up his pointer finger in a gesture for me to wait for him to stop chewing. Once he swallowed and pounded his chest twice, he looked back at me and said, “I said, ‘Yeah, but we never spend time together.’”

“Yes, we do, Steve.”

“Really?” He questioned. I nodded firmly. “When was the last time we hung out alone outside of school?” 

I opened my mouth to answer quickly but it took me way too long to think of a time. Shit, we never spend time together. “Huh, never, I guess.” 

“Yeah, you’re always with Hargrove.” I saw him roll his eyes out of the corner of mine and didn’t really blame him. 

“Well, that’s over, so.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed and he cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Is that a joke?”

“I wish,” I said cynically, crossing my arms after taking a sip of my chocolate milkshake. 

“The King and Queen broke up?” I scoffed and shrugged. “What the hell happened? This is like… a national-news-level story.”

I chuckled at his dramatic statement. “I dunno. We’re in a really big fight. I don’t think it’ll work out.”

“Whatcha fighting about?” 

“Listen, Nosy,” I started, which earned a laugh from the boy across from me in the booth.   
He interrupted me before I could continue. “I’m just being nice,” he justified, with a fake pout. I reached forward across the table and ruffled his hair like you would a dog and he scowled at me, pretending to take offense. I sat back in the booth and drank a bit more from my milkshake before answering.

“He can’t handle the fact that I won’t date him.” 

“Right, ‘cause you have a boyfriend,” he agreed. I nodded. “He wants you to cheat?”

“Yeah, but I know it won’t stop there.”

“What do you mean?”

I sighed. “He won’t admit it ‘cause he’s too stubborn, but I know how he feels about me. He wants John out of the picture completely. He’s super possessive and obnoxious and wants me all to himself.”

“I agree,” Steve said. “He practically worships the ground you walk on, it’s actually really funny.” 

A minute of awkward silence followed, with neither of us knowing what to say next. We just sat there eating our food, trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. 

I cleared my throat after having enough of that. “Anyway, would you like to go to Vicki’s party together tomorrow?” 

Vicki Sullivan was throwing an open-invite birthday party for herself on a Wednesday. I know, how fucking lame. But it did give me an excuse to get wasted on a weekday, and in my current predicament, I didn’t think it would be such a bad idea. 

“Yeah, why not?” He agreed, nodding. 

We ate in a more comfortable silence now. “Oh, how’s Nancy doing?” I didn’t actually care, but it was more of a courtesy thing since we already discussed my relationship issues.   
Steve looked down at his burger at my question. “Oh God, what happened?”

“At Tina’s party on Friday, you remember how wasted she was?” He asked sadly.

“Yeah, why?”

“She got punch on her shirt so we went to the bathroom to clean it up and she basically told me our relationship is bullshit and that she doesn’t love me.” 

Shit, there it is. I called that from the moment I met her. I knew it. 

“Shit, Steve, I’m really sorry.”

He cleared his throat and chuckled humorlessly. “It’s fine. Maybe we can work it out.”  
I nodded but didn’t say anything else, knowing I’d probably make him feel worse. I’m not particularly good at consoling people, which is funny because I seem to have no problem laying my issues on other people. Well, they’re more superficial issues than anything, I’d need to really trust someone to let them hear the deep shit. I don’t even think I’ve told John everything, nevermind Billy. 

Steve and I ended up at the Hawkins movie theater, and watched The Terminator, which I thought was a really good film. A future classic, in my opinion. 

It was nice to have a regular friend for once. I know Steve had been friends with Freckles and Carol last year and I know they had some huge fallout so that’s why he wasn’t King anymore. Maybe he needed a regular friend now, too.


	17. party on, wayne.

Doodling in my notebook during class lectures was one of my favorite pastimes and I normally didn’t do this during Mr. Bennett’s lectures, but this happened to be a special occasion because I wasn’t distracted by Sir William Hargrove this time. He was there seated next to me, pissed, because Bennett treated us like children and thought we had to be in alphabetically-ordered assigned seating the whole year, so it’s not like Billy’s seat choice was voluntary by any means. 

My pen lightly stroked across the top right-hand corner of my paper, creating lines that eventually resembled something of a rose—using the rose tattoo on the inner side of my arm as a reference. Bennett’s loud voice was explaining the difference between past participles and present participles (I’m not even sure if he actually knew the difference because no one else did) when all of a sudden, towards the end of the period, he stopped. His abrupt silence didn’t go unnoticed by me and so I looked up to see him peering over the edge of his glasses—his eyes switching between me and Billy. 

“What’s wrong with you two?” He asked out of the blue. 

I glanced around, even behind me to see who or what might’ve prompted him to ask this question. I gestured to myself and he nodded, a concerned expression on his tired features. “Nothin’?,” I replied, very confused. “Why?”

“We’ve gone an entire class period and I haven’t had to yell at you two—not even once,” he asserted suspiciously. The old man genuinely looked worried. He was right: Billy and I talked and fooled around all the time in that class every single day and today we couldn’t even look at each other. Without the context that I have, I’d be confused too. 

I shifted my focus back to my notebook and continued to draw. “We’re on a bit of a...hiatus if you will.” 

I could hear Billy scoff and Bennett seemed to be amused at how my reaction pissed the kid next to me off. “Hm, interesting.” 

The old teacher went back to his participles as scattered whispers erupted across the classroom. Apparently, Steve was right. This was worthy of the national news. I tried my best to ignore them, but the group of girls behind me were so incessantly annoying about it. 

“I can’t believe they broke up,” One whispered. 

“Oh my God, I know. Do you think he cheated?” Another asked. 

“Who cares? He’s single now and you know what that means—”

“Ladies,” I whispered back, interrupting their laughs and turning to face them. “Common misconception, but we weren’t ever dating. He’s been all yours, sweets, go right ahead.” They just stared blankly back at me, quite obviously fearful that I heard what they were saying. I flashed them a 100% fake grin and directed my attention back to my notebook. 

“Oh, and also,” I turned back. “You whisper too loud. Might be dangerous if the person you’re shitting on hears you.” 

The rest of the period went on agonizingly slow, with a thousand insecure thoughts about Billy running through my mind every second. For once in my life, I actually cared about what these people thought of me. What would the team think of me now? Will everyone turn against me? Which one of us do they like more?—we’re both assholes anyway. 

The bell rang and Billy practically sprinted out of the classroom, even beating the kid who sat next to the door out the door. I was packing my shit up at my own pace, knowing I had a free period next when a slightly-wrinkled hand rested on the edge of the desk. I glanced up from my seat to see Mr. Bennett again with that same pitiful look on his face as before. Did he really enjoy yelling at me and Billy that much?

“Bennett,” I greeted, putting my notebook in my bag. 

“Hargrove giving you trouble?”

I narrowed my eyes at his question, wondering if I really made it obvious that something was wrong with me. I always took pride in how well I cover up my emotions. “A bit. He’s being a dick.”

Bennett didn’t react to my use of inappropriate language (I knew he wouldn’t—he liked me too much) but instead cocked his head to the side in confusion. 

“Long story,” I sighed. “But he’s being an asshole, so I figured I’d just return the favor and he doesn’t particularly like that, so we’re in a fight.”

I swung my backpack over my shoulder and Bennett nodded in understanding. “Boys will be boys, I suppose.”

I stared blankly at the old man, wondering why the hell he asked what’s wrong if he was just gonna say some dumb shit like that. God, that saying makes me so incredibly angry, it’s not even funny anymore. Like no, actually, men will be held responsible for their stupid ass actions and will not be excused because of their gender. Next. 

So instead of insulting Bennett or yelling at him to take back what he said, I just turned on my heel and walked out of the classroom with my fists balled at my side. 

The rest of the day actually went by pretty quickly, which was a nice change of pace for once. And before I knew it, I was getting ready for Vicki’s party. 

I didn’t understand the reasoning behind throwing yourself a birthday party. Like, I crave attention and I love when everyone’s eyes are on me. I simply love that. But I don’t have to go to the lengths that some people do when they desire that feeling. Throwing yourself a birthday party and making it open invite is just a bit wrong to me— especially an 18th birthday party. You’re literally an adult now, just chill at home with a group of friends and get high. Or at least make it on a weekend, not on a fucking Wednesday, that’s so obnoxious. 

That would probably be the lowest point of my grievances with Vicki Sullivan that night, I just didn’t know it yet. 

Since I was planning on getting absolutely plastered that night, I figured regular high heels probably weren’t the best idea, so I settled on some biker boots with two-inch heels instead. I can’t not go out in heels, dude, I’m 5’2”. I’ll get stomped on. These boots were good for getting drunk, though, because they keep your ankles from rolling if you end up doing the drunk girl walk. And they don’t leave the balls of your feet feeling like you stepped on Legos all night, so I call that a win. 

I decided on wearing some ripped black skinny jeans, a red silk blouse, and a classic black leather jacket. If you didn’t know already, I love how I look in red and black. I threw on that matching bold red lipstick to retouch my makeup a bit and quickly straightened my raven hair. And before I knew it, I was in Steve’s BMW heading to Vicki’s. 

He pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park, turning to look over at me. “You sure you wanna do this?”

I rolled my eyes. “Free booze and blasting music at 8:00 on a Wednesday? Sign me up.” He chuckled at my sarcasm and we exited the car without another word. 

Vicki’s house was definitely on the bigger side—she lived up over by Loch Nora. It was much bigger than mine: a half-moon driveway littered with cars like her well-landscaped yard was with beer cans; large, white columns in the front lining the extravagant porch; a white-picket fence that outlined the property, held open by a large stone. It was really pleasing to the eye, actually, but not really my style. Too proper. 

From where we stood in front of her house, you could hear the music blaring from behind it and I also saw the little sign she put on her exceptionally large door that said “ENTER AROUND BACK THRU FENCE”. I silently laughed at the misspelling of ‘through’ as Steve and I followed those instructions and met the party in the back. 

People were already visibly drunk and you’ll never, EVER guess who was up on the keg already. Vicki, Tina, Carol, Tommy, Ryan, Peter, and Jeff were all in a circle around him, chanting the count of how long he could go. They set him down at 45 seconds and everyone cheered for him like the drunken idiots they were. 

Once Billy got his bearings again, he scanned the party as if he was looking for a specific person and locked eyes with me. He was looking for me. His attention was stolen when Vicki snaked her arms around him and pulled him close to her with a lustful smile on her face. The blonde glanced back toward me and smirked, leaning into her and kissing her. 

“I need a fucking drink,” I told Steve coldly when I felt his eyes on me. 

And I got that drink, let me tell you. Vicki had a punch bowl set up and a variety of assorted hard liquors on the counter. I snatched the tequila bottle and took a swig, letting the burning, awful liquid flow down my throat. Instantly, I felt the alcohol reach my brain and begin the buzz I was waiting for and slowly began to sway my hips to “Let’s Go Crazy” by Prince. 

“Jesus, Bo, tequila straight up?”

“Want some?” I swung my arm with the bottle in it towards Steve’s chest. He shook his head no and I shrugged my shoulders. “More for me, then.”

“Are you planning on drinking that whole thing?” He asked, a horrified look on his face. 

I turned the bottle to look at it, debating if this was what I actually what I wanted to do on a Wednesday night. Shouting came from behind me—the guys informing the rest of the party of the 45 second record Billy had set. I looked Steve dead in the eyes and swallowed at least a shot’s worth of the tequila, silently telling him “Yeah, I’m finishing this.”

Steve tilted his head to the side with a pitiful expression and went to go plead with me not to, but I was already walking in the other direction. I was fucking sick of that look. I’d got it from Shawn, Steve, even Bennett. Let me be self-destructive, Jesus Christ. 

And the best way to be self-destructive, you ask? Get blackout drunk. 

So I headed straight for that keg. I was done with hearing that Billy was the Keg King. Remember my motto? Records are fucking made to be broken. 

I tapped Ryan Freeman on the shoulder and he and a few of the other guys on the team turned towards me. “Oh, hey, Bo. What’s up?”

“Lift me up on the keg.”

My eyes met Billy’s from where he sat on the outside patio couch with Vicki on his lap. Ryan hesitated for a moment, a bit confused. 

“Did I fucking stutter?” I asked him, drunkenly rude and obnoxious, still holding deadly eye-contact with my blonde ex-best friend. 

He shook his head no quickly and he and Pat Moore stood behind me while I tucked my blouse into my jeans’ waistline securely. I placed the hose in my mouth and set my palms on the edges of the keg while the boys lifted my legs up by my calves and began counting. I let the beer flow easily down my throat, enjoying the fermented taste of it. The trick to success here was to pace yourself, so I wasn’t drinking too quickly, but just enough to be considered chugging. The sounds were drowned out quickly when I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing and simultaneous consumption of beer. 

I had no idea how much time passed when I felt myself getting very full and a bit sick of the taste of the fermented liquid, so I shook my left leg a bit to signal to Ryan to let me down. My head spun unnaturally when I was set upright on my feet and I stumbled into Pat, coughing violently until I was able to steady myself. It was dead silent for a few moments before the rest of the party attendees began whistling and clapping and yelling and the like. 

I looked to the brunette next to me for an explanation. “How long was I up?”

“Forty-nine seconds.” 

A smile broke out across my face and I pumped my fist in the air in victory. I searched for Billy with my eyes and once I found him, he was already glaring at me. His blue eyes nearly blazed red as he realized I’d officially dethroned him and he was second best. I cocked my head to the side and gave him a look of false remorse with my lip pouted out, then it twisted into an evil grin as I joined the crowd chanting my name in glory. 

“You beat Billy’s record by four fucking seconds!!” Jeff Palmer screamed in my face, holding up his hand for a high-five. 

“Good math!!” I swung my hand up to meet his in a high five and began to dance to the sound of my peers repeating my name over and over again. Congratulations surrounded me and I was on that adrenaline high already. Well that, plus copious amounts of beer and tequila flowing through my system. Anyways, the point is, I didn’t feel like shit for the first time in days. And it was euphoric. 

I knew Billy was seething over it too, which made it all the more worth it. I was so sick of his smugness, and the fucking move with Vicki? You wanna play that game, go right ahead, but don’t expect to win. 

Steve eventually found me again and he and I danced drunkenly to “Hungry Like the Wolf” by Duran Duran blaring over the speakers set up in Vicki’s backyard. Steve appeared as though he also had consumed a bit of alcohol in the time that we were apart, so we seemed to be the most carefree people there. Laughing, jumping, dancing, air-guitaring, singing like total idiots. All while I could practically hear Billy’s eyes boring into me from his position on Vicki’s yard furniture, she still in his lap trying to get his attention. 

All in all, a pretty successful night until I was on Steve’s shoulders doing God knows what and everything simply went dark.


	18. a day off.

I suppose if I were to fault myself for anything major, it would have to be my drinking. I was sure I wasn’t an addict because I could go for extended times without any alcohol, and I certainly didn’t think it was necessary to my life. 

However, the version of alcoholism I possess is the kind that only comes out when I have a taste of any beverage with even a slight amount of alcohol in it. I really only drink at parties or if shit’s going sideways in life, and parties are the only times that I actually drink myself away. One taste of alcohol at a party and it sends a message to my brain that it’s go time and I simply don’t stop until I blackout—which is fine with party-me and drunk-me and nighttime-me, but is most definitely NOT fine with morning-me. Because morning-me has to deal with the aftermath of the night previous. 

Hangovers are the worst. I’ll say it again. Hangovers. Are. The. WORST. 

Now, a normal hangover isn’t too bad: you can muscle through it with some aspirin and a shit ton of water and greasy food. But a hangover after a blackout is a-whole-nother story. 

My head pounded. I could physically feel the arteries and veins inside my cranium pulsating against my temples—the sound of my heartbeat louder than the cars outside passing the house. Aspirin couldn’t save me now. The traces of an obscenely pungent taste on my tongue told me I most likely vomited at some point during that night. While I noticed this, I silently hoped to God it was into a toilet or sink. 

Apart from the physical pain, the strain of a blackout hangover seeps into your mind and prevents any and all recollection of events during said night before, so all you’re left with is a strange assortment of vague flashes of people and alcohol with a whole lotta fuzziness in between. 

Luckily, I hadn’t pregamed, so I remembered arriving to the party with a co-sober, Steve Harrington. I figured my best bet to solve the small mystery at hand was to have him enlighten me and piece together the exact happenings. 

This sounded great to me, except for one thing. It was a fucking Thursday and I had goddamn school. That meant dealing with unbearable people for an unbearable time slot of about six hours with my unbearable hangover. Not likely. 

I couldn’t just skip school—I mean, I could, I’d done it before, but I didn’t want to explain to my mum exactly why I skipped. So I’d have to go. 

It was just beginning to reach the time of the year when the air is crisp and chilly in the mornings and the blankets that were warmed from all of the body heat seem like the place to stay for eternity. My top sheet had been pushed down to the foot-end of my mattress, so my sweatpant-covered legs were wrapped in the fluffy blanket underneath the grey comforter that covered my bed. The air in my room hadn’t been heated by the central air system in my home yet, so it was quite cold outside my seven-layered-dip of blankets, biting my nose a bit to my discomfort. 

Reluctantly, I shifted in my bed and slipped out of the blankets, which proved to be a mistake quickly. The immediate and impending feeling of vomit creeping up my throat forced me to sprint to the bathroom down the hall, covering my mouth with my hands until I reached the toilet and let go. Retching has to be one of the worst things to ever grace human nature—such a violent and indignifying action that brings even the toughest men to their knees (literally). 

There wasn’t much left in my stomach from the night before apparently, since all I was throwing up was water and maybe a little bit of leftover beer. But I continued to dry heave against my will, and I don’t care for that shit at all. 

Once my body was sure it had emptied it’s contents, it finally allowed me to be back in control of my throat. The toilet and the tiled floor under my touch was remarkably freezing, and served as the only reminder that I could not fall back asleep right there right then. I glanced at the clock on the wall next to the mirror, wincing at the blinding incandescent lighting that lit up my bathroom. It was 7:24 am. School started in six minutes. 

FUCK that. 

I tucked my arms together in my sweatshirt, shuffling back to my room quickly to avoid frostbite in my feet from the chilled floors. I decided that I would not, in fact, be going to school today, but would rather blame my skipping on “sleeping in too late” and “not hearing my alarm”. My mum and brother were already gone for work, so it’s not like either of them could stop me. 

The grey fabric that covered my mattress welcomed me more than anyone’s open arms could ever, and I gladly accepted. Despite the sun peeking through the blinds, unconsciousness overcame me once again as soon as my cheek hit my main pillow. 

~~~

The sound of the telephone ringing downstairs yanked me from the bliss I was enjoying while sleeping off the terrible hangover I’d given myself. Propping myself up on one elbow, I lazily checked the analog clock that sat on my dresser across from the end of my bed. 

12:13 pm. 

The incessant noise continued as I shoved my face back into my pillow, hoping whoever was calling would just quit already. I enjoyed a solitary 5 seconds of peace before it rang again—somehow more annoying than before. 

The room was still decently cold, so I grabbed the small throw at the end of my bed and wrapped myself in it like a burrito. I took my sweet-ass time trudging down the steps towards the landline screaming at me from its place on the couch-side table. 

“Hughes residence,” I answered lethargically in a flat tone, holding the phone up to my ear and silently praying to God it was a telemarketer so I could just hang up. 

“Hello, this is Peggy Dawson from Hawkins High School, is this Mrs. Leanna Hughes?”

My eyes went wide—I forgot they sometimes call home when you skip. “No, one second, please,” I replied. 

I covered the microphone part of the phone slightly and yelled, “Mom?! School’s calling!!”  
I waited about ten seconds before returning the phone back to my ear and, in the best impersonation of my mother’s voice, I started talking to Peggy Dawson. “Hello!”

“Is this the mother of Bernadette Hughes?” 

I silently gagged at the sound of my full name, hating hearing it roll of anyone’s tongue but my mother’s. I shoved that down and kept up the act. “This is she.” 

“Hello, Mrs. Hughes. We wanted to confirm that you were aware that your daughter, Bernadette, did not attend school today.”

“Yes, of course. She was actually the one who answered the phone. She woke up this morning with feverish symptoms and she always works so hard with her schoolwork, so I figured I’d give her a break today.” I reckoned that would be along the lines of something my mom would say. 

“Alright, ma’am, we just wanted to confirm. Thank you. Enjoy your day,” The middle-aged woman replied in the monotonous voice I loathed so much. 

“Thank you, you as well.” And with that, I set the phone back down on the receiver and ended the call, letting out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. 

Going back to bed sounded so incredibly good, but I knew that would fuck up my sleep schedule even more than it already was, so I lumbered into the kitchen to search for anything that resembled food. Whoever didn’t force me to eat anything last night is entirely a fake friend. Fucking Steve Harrington. 

Memo to me, I thought, Harass Harrington later.

After fifteen minutes of scouring my kitchen for any edible products that suited my needs, I eventually found a box of Eggos in the back of the freezer behind some peas. I popped four of those suckers in the toaster next to the fridge and once they were golden brown, I slathered on some butter and doused them in maple syrup. 

I plopped on the couch, debating on whether or not to turn on the TV and search for something to watch or just to dive in. I picked the latter, since my stomach was practically yodeling for anything at this point. I could eat glass and she’d be satisfied—anything would suffice. 

Somehow I was able to consume all four of the Eggos left in the box, and downed a glass of chocolate milk (fucking yum) right after, which ultimately pleased my stomach. And believe it or not, I fell asleep again.

And a few hours later, the phone woke me up, again. Except this time it was right next to my ear since my head was rested uncomfortably on the arm of the couch. I shot up with a shout and once I regained any of the dignity I had left and realized I wasn’t in any kind of danger, I grabbed the phone. 

“Hughes residence,” I mumbled. 

“Hi, this is Jam from Dinder Mufflin Paper Company and I was wondering if I could simply have 30 seconds of your ti—”

I slammed the phone back on the receiver with a huff of annoyance and threw my head back against the back of the couch, closing my eyes again. I remembered that school was out by now and I needed to talk to Steve, so I dialed his number and waited for the line to pick up.   
It took a few rings, but the receiving end picked up and greeted me. “Marsha Harrington speaking,” a polite, proper voice rang through to my end. 

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington, this is Bo Hughes, a friend of Steve’s.”

“Hi, Bo.”

“Um, is Steve there?”

“You know, you just missed him. He just went out to visit Nancy Wheeler, I believe.”

“Okay, no worries. Thanks anyways, have a good one.”

“You too, dear.” Dial tone.

Nancy and I still didn’t get along, but I knew what Steve was doing going to her house: he wanted to win her back. But if what he told me about what happened at Tina’s party was true, then he’s fucked and he doesn’t even know it. So maybe I could beat him to her house, since he lived ten minutes farther from her. 

With that in mind, I raced up the stairs and changed into some old, regular, black leggings I kept to wear under basketball shorts when playing outside and kept the sweatshirt I was already wearing on. I slid into some beat up Nike Air Forces, wrote a quick note to my mum regarding my whereabouts, grabbed my keys and headed towards the Wheeler residence.   
When I arrived, Steve’s red BMW was already parked outside her house, so I pulled up behind him. He had red roses in-hand while striding towards her front door across the lawn, talking to himself. I hopped out of my car, but before I could get Steve’s attention, it was grabbed by a younger, curly-haired boy who I’d seen hanging around Billy’s sister, Max. 

The boy talked to him while walking right past him towards me, Steve looking incredibly confused. We made brief eye contact before he recognized who I was. 

“Henderson,” He called out, getting the attention of the kid approaching his car but still not acknowledging my presence. 

“No, you don’t understand, we have to go now its an emergency, Steve—”

“Right, yeah, emergency, got it. We got company, dumbass,” Steve replied, still looking at me.

The middle-schooler finally turned around to look at me and dropped the flowers he stole from Steve. “H-Hi.”

I flashed him a small smile and greeted him back. The “Henderson” kid looked back to Steve questioningly. 

“Its okay,” Steve affirmed, “She’s cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally getting into the actual st2 storyline!!


	19. dungeons and demogorgons?

The kid hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Okay, but we need to go. We have bigger problems than your love life. You still have that bat?”

“Bat? What bat?” Steve asked, genuinely confused. 

“The one with the nails,” the kid replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Why?” 

“I’ll explain it on the way,” Henderson answered, getting into the passenger side of Steve’s car. 

“Now?”

“Now!” 

“Wait!!” I interrupted when Steve started running back towards his car in a panic. 

“What?” I threw my arms out to the side exasperatedly at his question. “Right, um, come with us?” He suggested.

“Where?”

“I’m not even sure,” he replied, gesturing to the kid in the car. 

“Do you wanna take my car? It’s bigger.” 

“Uhh,” he thought on it for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, sure.” 

Five minutes later, we were piled in the front seat of my car while I drove, Steve was seated in the middle, and Dustin (I learned his name was) sat in the passenger seat. The sun was setting and it was getting pretty dark when Steve decided to break the somewhat silence filling the car besides “Hammer to Fall” playing on the radio. 

“Wait a sec, how big?” He asked. 

“First he was like that,” Dustin said while pinching the air— about three inches between his fingers. “And now he’s like this.” He changed his scale to both of his hands, a few feet between them now. 

Steve scoffed. “I swear to God, man, it’s just some little lizard, okay?”

“It’s not a lizard,” Dustin challenged. 

“How do you know?” I butted in. 

“How do I know it’s not a lizard?” 

“Yeah!” I yelled. 

“Yeah, how do you know it’s not just a lizard?” Steve also yelled, in tandem with me. 

“Because his face opened up and he ate my cat.” 

My face dropped and I looked to Steve, who actually registered what Dustin said and seemed like it made sense to him. 

A few seconds of silence passed as Dustin pointed towards a quaint home, signaling to me that it was his. I pulled in and put the car in park, taking a big breath. “His face...opened up.”

“Yeah,” both boys said in unison. 

“Cool, yeah, just checking. Didn’t wanna get confused or anything,” I remarked. 

We exited the car and opened up the trunk where Steve put a wooden bat with nails hammered into every side. The leaves crunched underfoot as the three of us crept around Dustin’s house to the cellar entrance. Steve and I looked down at the orange double doors then back at each other for a moment, silently conversing about whether or not we wanted to do this. Steve handed me a flashlight and I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“Why do you get the weapon?!” I whispered aggressively, not easily hiding my fear. 

“I’ve used it before!” Steve whisper-yelled back. 

An owl hooted in the distance but we all kept our focus on the doors beneath us. 

“I don’t hear shit,” Steve observed. 

“He’s in there,” Dustin replied, his headset still on. 

Steve reached the bat forward and tapped it on the door, hoping to get some sort of confirmation that there was, in fact, a monster behind there. 

“You better not be screwing with us, kid, it ain’t funny,” I threatened. Dustin shook his head ‘no’ with a truly terrified look on his face. 

Steve hit the door with more force— and even he looked frightened now. He snatched the flashlight out of my hands and shined it directly into Dustin’s face. “All right. Listen, kid, I swear if this is some sorta Halloween prank, you’re dead. All right?”

“It’s not. It’s not a prank. Get it out of my face,” he said, referring to the blinding light Steve held in front of him.

“You got a key for this thing?” 

Once Dustin unlocked the lock holding together the chain that bound the doors, Steve opened the left one and peered inside. I grabbed the right side and opened that one, not seeing anything down the dark steps as Steve gripped the bat tight. Dustin shined the flashlight down the stairs and lent it to me. Even with the extra light, it was still too dark to see much and we certainly didn’t see any kind of monster. 

“He must be further down there,” Dustin paused. “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to escape.”

Steve and I both gave him a look that told him we hated that idea. “We gotta keep the youngins safe,” I told Steve and he rolled his eyes. 

There happened to be a hammer on the ground next to the basement entrance, so I grabbed that and followed Steve down the concrete steps with the flashlight. My heart was in my throat when we reached the last step and I quickly shined the light to all corners where a dog-sized lizard monster could be hiding, finally breathing when I didn’t find anything. Steve turned on the overhead light and we both saw the same thing at the same time: a pile of snakeskin. Except there was a lot of it. Meaning if it molted, then it just got bigger. 

Steve lifted up the excess skin with the nails on the bat so we could examine it a bit more while bile slowly crept up my throat. Something in the corner on the left side of the room caught my attention and I tapped Steve with the hammer and gestured towards it. 

“Steve? Bo?” Dustin called from outside. “Steve, what’s going on down there?”

We went back over to the stairs and I flicked the light up to meet Dustin’s face, making him jump back a little. I sure as hell didn’t like being scared but I did mildly enjoy scaring others. 

“Get down here,” Steve commanded. 

“Oh, shit,” Dustin cursed as we showed him the molted skin. I pointed the flashlight to the corner, showing him that the concrete blocks of the basement walls had been rearranged and a tunnel had been burrowed. “Oh, shit!!”

We all bent down to observe the tunnel that the monster had created to escape his captivity.   
“No way,” Dustin said. “No way.” 

“Way,” I countered, nodding while still looking at the tunnel. I turned to the two next to me and they both had ‘done-with-your-shit’ looks on their faces. “Hey, you’re the one that lost the monster.” 

“His name’s Dart and he’s not a monster,” Dustin defended.

I put my hands up in defense. “Okay. I just wanna know what kind of crackhead lizard I’m dealing with here cuz ain’t no regular lizard gonna do that.” 

“He’s not a lizard either.” 

“Thennnn, what the fuck is he?” 

“A demogorgon.” 

My mouth dropped open. “A...demo—demogorgon...”

“Yeah.”

“Like from D&D?” 

“You know D&D?”

“Why wouldn’t I know D&D? I used to play all the time when I was younger!” I informed him with a smile. 

“Really?” Both of the boys said in-sync, but with different tones. Dustin was more shocked, and Steve was more judgemental. 

I nodded. “Yep, I had an elf. I worked hard for that shit.” 

“You got an elf? How long did that take?” Dustin asked, extremely excited despite our predicament. 

“Years, kid. I’m a D&D elder, I got the wisdom.” 

“Okay, nerds, let’s go find that demogorgon before it eats us! How ‘bout that?!” Steve interrupted.

I elbowed him in the side and he feigned hurt while we retreated back up the stairs and out into the night. “Still can’t believe all this shit’s real. You guys really aren’t playing?”

“I wish I was,” Dustin said and Steve nodded along. 

“Fuck.” 

~~~

Since none of us could sleep even a wink that night, we decided to come up with a plan for the next day. And when morning rolled around, we were ready. At some random spot in the woods, I parked my car and we all got to work. Dustin grabbed the three buckets filled with raw meat while Steve and I grabbed out bags and slung them over our shoulders. We all had these ridiculous yellow kitchen dishwashing gloves on so we didn’t have to touch the meat, making us all look like absolute clowns. My hair was tied up in a high ponytail and I was ready. I reached all the way into my trunk and pulled out the compound bow I kept in there at all times along with the sheath of arrows that went with it. 

“Woah!!” Steve yelled, surprised. 

“My brother taught me,” I said, answering his question before he asked it. 

“Lemme see.” 

I obliged, happy to show off a skill I wasn’t normally allowed to show off. Setting the arrow in place on the bowstring, I pulled it back against my cheek, feeling the pulleys on either end of the bow tighten, and pointed it at the nearest tree that stood about 50 yards away. I released it in tandem with an exhale and it shot through the air and pierced the bark of the tree in the dead center. 

I looked back to Steve and his jaw was on the ground. “Uh, yeah, remind me not to fall in love with you,” he joked. 

“I’ll put it on my to-do list right behind ‘Kill Demogorgon’.” Steve laughed out loud as I wedged the tightly stuck arrow out of its place in the tree bark. 

“Dustin! Dustin, do you copy? This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?” 

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” Dustin replied, holding down the button of his walkie-talkie and speaking into the headset. 

“Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.”

“Well, while you were having sister problems, Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby demogorgon.” 

“Wait. What?”

“I’ll explain later,” Dustin declared. “Meet me, Steve, and Bo at the old junkyard.”

“Wait, which Bo and Steve?”

“And bring your binoculars and wrist rocket.” 

“You mean Steve Harrington and Bo Hughes?”

“All right, let’s go,” Steve said, and we all grabbed our buckets to begin the bait trail that would hopefully bring Dart to the junkyard. 

“Just be there, stat. Over and out.”


	20. we give good advice.

We three must’ve been walking for ages, just dropping chunks of meat on the ground, before one of us broke the silence. It seemed to be how this whole encounter was gonna go. 

“All right, so let me get this straight,” Steve started. “You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl...who you just met?” 

“All right, that’s grossly oversimplifying things,” Dustin said, a few yards ahead of me and Steve. 

“I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyways?”

“An interdimensional slug?” The kid asked rhetorically. “Because it’s awesome.”

“Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn’t, I...I just...I don’t know, I just feel like you’re trying way too hard.” 

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?”

“It’s not about the hair, man. The key with girls is just...just acting like you don’t care.” 

“Even if you do?”

“Yeah, exactly. It drives ‘em nuts.”

This sparked my attention very quickly. “He’s not wrong, you know,” I piped in. 

Dustin turned his head to look back at me. “Really?” 

“Yes, my child, listen to the ladies man. He holds the secrets.” Dustin nodded and took my advice, listening intently to Steve and his words of women wisdom. 

“Then what?”

“You just wait until, uh...until you feel it.” 

“Feel what?”

“It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it but you can feel it, like this, uh...electricity? You know?”

“Oh, like in the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere—” 

Steve cut him off. “No, no, no, no, no. Like a...like a sexual electricity.” 

“Oh,” Dustin responded, probably not even thinking that way at all. 

“You feel that, and then you make your move,” Steve suggested.

“So that’s when you kiss her?” He asked innocently.

“No, whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Romeo.”

“Sorry.”

“Sure, okay, some girls, yeah, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a…”

“Like a lion,” I finished absentmindedly. 

“Yes!” Steve agreed, pointing to me. “Like a lion. Wow, how did you know I was gonna say that?”

“You think you’re the only master of this game, buddy? Men might be easier to...persuade, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t a dance involved. Takes two to tango, Steven,” I told him, throwing yet another chunk on the ground. 

Steve nodded in agreement and went back to his lecture. “But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a...like a ninja.”

“What type is Nancy?”

“Nancy’s different. She’s different than the other girls.” 

“Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Yeah, she is.” I could hear the sadness in his voice and it was heartbreaking. 

“But this girl’s special, too, you know. It’s just, like, something about her—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey.” Steve interrupted, stopping all of us in our tracks.   
“What?” Dustin and I asked at the same time.

“You’re not falling in love with this girl, are you?” Steve questioned while I just raised my eyebrows. 

Dustin looked between the two of us, hesitating a little. “Uh, no. No.”

“Okay, good. Don’t.” 

“I won’t.” 

“She’s only gonna break your heart and you’re way too young for that shit.” I recognized that reference to Nancy as well and just kept silent. And then I thought about the predicament I was in currently with men. 

Oh, my God. Was I breaking Billy’s heart? Is that what this whole thing is about? Am I just that stupid? I mean, it’s obvious that he has feelings for me, I’m not that blind, but would this be why he’s just being so fucking aggressive about it? Leave it to me to make it about me. Sorry, back to the kid who needs some quality relationship advice. 

After a few more silent moments, Steve spoke up. “Fabergè.”

“What?”

Steve pointed to his hair. “It’s Fabergè Organics. Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair’s damp...It’s not wet, okay? When it’s damp..”

“Damp,” Dustin repeated. 

“You do four puffs of Farrah Fawcett spray—”

I cut Steve off with a cackle. “Quiet, peanut gallery,” Steve said, dismissing the state of hilarity I was in. 

“Farrah Fawcett?” Dustin repeated.

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. You tell anyone I told you that and your ass is grass. You’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?” Steve threatened with a yellow finger pointed at the preteen. 

Dustin raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Yup.”

I still couldn’t stop laughing, to the point where I had my hands on my knees and I was gasping for breath. 

“What’s so funny?” Steve asked, irritated at me clearly. 

“Dude,” I met his eyes and wiped away a tear that had fallen due to how hard I was laughing. “I use Faberge Organics and Farrah Fawcett spray.” Dustin snorted and Steve shot him a deadly look, making me laugh even harder. I continued, “It’s okay, really, I just wasn’t prepared for you to say that, I’m sorry.”

“Listen, Hughes, you tell anyone—”

“Babe, you couldn’t beat me in a fight if you tried. I won’t tell anyone, though.”

Steve pursed his lips, racking his brain for any sort of leverage he could use over me to ensure I would keep my mouth shut. “You tell anyone and I tell everyone you told me you’ve been sleeping with Hargrove,” he threatened with a completely serious face. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” I countered after picking up my jaw from the ground. 

“Try me.” We had a mini stare-off, ending in my victory and Steve letting out a sigh. “Listen, Bo, I’m trusting you on this.”

I held up three fingers like a Boy Scout. “Scout’s Honor.”

And so we continued on with our meat trail. A few minutes later, we three had arrived at our destination, a bit winded because of the hill that preceded the junkyard. Steve now had sunglasses on and I may have made more than one comment about how utterly stupid he looked while Dustin silently agreed with me. 

We looked out onto the junkyard. “Oh, yeah,” Steve said. “Yeah, this’ll do. This’ll do just fine. Good call, dude.”

Dustin brightly smiled at Steve’s appreciative comment and it warmed my cold, dead heart for a moment to see how much he admired and looked up to Steve. It made me wish for a moment that I could have a younger sister to admire me, but that thought was interrupted when I realized I probably looked like an idiot staring off into space daydreaming about something that would never happen. 

Steve had me pinpoint a spot in the middle of the junkyard that would provide a good view from the bus (where we all would be) while also being out in the open, so we all dumped the rest of our buckets of meat onto that spot. 

“I said medium-well!” I heard a young male voice yell from across the yard. We all turned to see who I assumed to be Lucas Sinclair and Max. Lucas had the most adorable smile as he waved over to our group, sporting a camouflage bandana and pushing his bike towards us. Max had her left hand in the pocket of her green zip-up and grinned as well. 

“Who’s that?” Steve asked, referring to Max. Dustin didn’t answer, he just stared at her, so I pulled Steve aside to explain quickly before we got to work setting up our little fortress. 

Dustin and Lucas were behind an old, rusted car talking about something very secret apparently when I went over to Max to help her out with the sheets of metal. “Hey, kid.”

“Bo,” she greeted with a genuine smile. “You look terrible.”

“Oh,” I chuckled. “Really bad hangover.”

“It’s a Friday morning…?” She said, questioning my morals a bit. 

“Uh, there was a huge party on Wednesday. I drank a lot and did God knows what else and I’m still paying for it,” I said with a small, cynical laugh.

“Billy?”

I nodded. “How is he?”

Her brows furrowed at my question. “I still don’t understand why you care, but, um...he’s—he’s not doing too hot. He’s just...angry. All the time now. I think it’s because of you.”

I nodded, soaking in what she said before I made a decision. “I’m gonna talk to him soon. Not yell, just sit down and talk about everything. I can’t fight him anymore, it hurts too much.”

Her blue eyes met mine and gave me that look of pity that I’d been getting so much recently. I didn’t get angry at her, though. She’s the only one who can do that and get away with it because she knows exactly what I mean. She knows how close we are and she’s seen how painful our arguments get. 

“I think you guys will be okay once he gets his head out of his ass. He’s pretty much in love with you,” she informed. I felt a blush creep up on my cheeks and I nodded silently as a “Thank you”. 

We’d finished our task in about a half hour while the sunset served as a reminder that time was ticking. Steve and I grabbed our bags and all five of us headed into the bus, making it the safe zone. 

Steve clicked his lighten on and off again for the seven thousandth time before Max decided to ask him, “So you really fought one of these things before?”

Steve nodded earnestly. Max continued. “And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?” I pointed at her, telling her that I also would enjoy the answer to that question. 

“Shit,” Dustin said. “Don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.” Max’s brows leapt up at his tone, as did mine and Steve’s. “Why are you even here if you don’t believe us? Just go home.”

“Yeesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” Max asked him rhetorically, leaving her position on one of the bus seats and heading up the ladder to the roof of the bus. 

“That’s good. Just show her you don’t care,” Steve encouraged. 

“Don’t be a dick, though,” I suggested, to which Steve gave me a disapproving look. “Look, Harrington, as resident Queen of Hawkins High, I think my two cents counts for something.”

“She’s right,” Dustin agreed. “And I don’t care, for your information,” he directed at Steve. Steve shot him a “sureeee” wink, to which Dustin replied. “Why are you winking, Steve? Stop it.”


	21. dear diary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plz take note that this chapter is from billy’s perspective!! also the indentation with “-“ indicates that is something he is reading!!

Billy's POV

Breaking and entering into someone's home is wrong—I know that. I'm not an idiot. Sometimes it's necessary, though. Y'know, like right now.

I knew Bo was off doing God knows what with Steve Harrington because they're the best of fucking friends now, so it wasn't a surprise to me when I pulled up to her house and her car was nowhere in sight. As soft as it sounds, I couldn't get rid of this guilt and this weird feeling that she wasn't doing too hot. I needed to know if she was okay. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I debated on whether or not to do it. As always, I picked the fuck-it option.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting on my heels on the small roof outside her window. I checked behind me to make sure no neighbors were watching and once I found out the coast was clear, I took a breath and turned back towards the window.

"Open, open, open," I chanted, attempting to will the window to be unlocked by some miracle. God must have been on my side or something because as soon as I started lifting, it opened with ease. 

I also made a note to tell Bo that she should lock her windows: any creep could just come right in.

I shut the window behind me soundlessly and observed her room for a moment. It was messy as all hell—normal for her—so I wasn't worried yet. If I came in and her room was spotless I would have had a heart attack 'cause that sure as hell ain't Bo. The vanity next to the window had makeup and brushes and all that girl stuff all over it as per usual—also a good sign. Her bed was messy and looked like it hadn't been made in years, what, with the pillows and blankets strewn everywhere. And clothes and random objects littered the floor, which made it hard to walk without rolling an ankle. It smelled like it always had in there, as well: a vanilla scent mixed with her natural fragrance—the product being an aroma that I secretly adored. 

I strode over to her bookshelf and searched for anything that might tell me something about her right now. My eyes landed on a small green book that sat under a few others on the second shelf. It was thin and had one of those tassel bookmarks to keep your page stuck in the middle of it. I couldn't tell you why exactly I thought it was important, but I think it was mostly because it was the one book out of all of them that looked like you could write in it...like a diary.

No.

That's so fucking wrong.

But I need to know. 

Against my better judgment—which isn't that great to begin with—I grabbed the book and opened it to the bookmarked page. With a sigh of guilt, I began reading the most recent entry in her neat handwriting.

\- November 4th, 1984

\- I know I haven't written in this thing since the beginning of time, but I guess desperate times call for desperate measures or whatever that stupid saying is. And clearly, I don't have a therapist, so this is the next best thing.

\- Basically, everything's fucked right now. I'm pissed off at everyone and everything all the time—mainly myself. I don't even really know why. Well, that's actually a lie. I know exactly why.

\- It really all started I suppose on Halloween night. I wasn't originally going to go to Tina's party, but then Steve pleaded and I knew Billy would make fun of me if I didn't, so I thought "Fuck it, I'll go".

I smirked at this, knowing she was exactly right as always. I definitely shouldn't have kept reading, but might as well finish what I started.

\- So I freaked out when I got home 'cause I had no fucking idea what I was gonna go as until I came across my freshman year costume of Marilyn Monroe—complete with the dress, heels, and wig. John showed up (he called to ask if he could come down to visit earlier) when I was done getting ready and we were off to Tina's. He dressed as Elvis (his costume from last year) and was as handsome as I remember, but it was so weird being with him after not being around him for so long. When we got to Tina's, though, he tried to get me to fuck in my car beforehand, but I told him to fuck off because I wanted to party first—like that was the whole point of going. Sorry I didn't want to waste a perfectly good costume that took hours to assemble. He got pissed off and I got out of the car and he followed me into the party.

\- Billy was one of the first people to spot me, and he yelled something about me being a bad bitch or something, and he lifted me onto his shoulders. I think he passed me a beer and a joint and people were chanting my name? Stuff's a bit fuzzy, I'm not too sure. And he did some like swing dance move to get me down and looked at me so strangely I think I blushed. John, of course, got super pissed off about this and went straight inside like a bitch. I got mad and walked away and eventually started playing drinking games and having fun and all that jazz.

\- Billy did the Longest Keg Stand in Hawkins History and waltzed over to me like the drunken idiot he was and we talked and flirted for a bit like always until he brought up John. Shit like "Why do you have to be with him?" and "Why can't you just cheat once? Just once?" and "You don't love him, Bo." God, he made me so fucking angry with all of that. Like, first of all, you don't know how I feel. Secondly, who the fuck do you think you are to have the balls to talk to me that way? Sit down, please.

\- I couldn't for the life of me understand why he was acting like this at all. He was drunk, I know, but still. "A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts." I didn't believe that at the time, but I should've because apparently, it's true. Especially with Billy Hargrove. But I still didn't understand. He's a beautiful man—has everything a girl could want—and I could go on and on about how perfect he is—you know what? I will. Why not? Confessing everything now, anyway.

\- Billy Hargrove has the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen. I've never seen an ocean in person, but if I were to imagine the color, his eye color comes to mind first. Just so goddamn blue. And don't even get me started on his eyelashes: how are they that thick and full? Why wasn't I blessed with that? I'm not ashamed to say I'm jealous of those lashes (and his ass, if I'm being really honest here). His smile lights up a room, and the genuine smile that only comes out every once in a long while is simply gorgeous. The little dimples that are put on display and the way the happiness reaches his eyes—indescribable. So beautiful. And the brightness of the smile and eyes contrasted against his nearly olive skin? Fuck me, it's so incredible. Don't even talk to me about that goddamn body because WHEW, BABY!! THAT'S A MAN! If I had to choose one man to call a Greek god, it would be him. I FORGOT THE CURLS. CURLS. CURLS. CURLS. I am probably the biggest sucker for cute guys with curly hair but he takes that shit to a whole new level. The blonde hair, blue eyes, and tan skin are exactly what I picture when I picture someone from California—he is the epitome of a surfer babe. It's crazy. Drives me insane. A straight ten. And he knows it, so fuck him.

I laughed at the last part, I was actually able to hear her say that out loud in my head. She really notices all of that? She really thinks that every time she looks at me? I mean, obviously, I'm a hot shit but I didn't really think she thought that too. 

\- What I'm trying to say is that he could have the entire female population of the school (and beyond, honestly) bagged if he wanted to. And I know I'm pretty, I do, but I couldn't believe he was willing to go as far as ruining my relationship just for one good fuck.

My smile from earlier dropped. Hearing her put it into her perspective and hearing her tell me that this was really what she thought of me just made it hurt that much more. I didn't want one good fuck. I mean, yeah, obviously I want to fuck her—who wouldn't? She's the most beautiful girl I’ve ever fucking seen—including all those girls back in California. Every guy that sees her is taken with her and she’s impossible to ignore. I'd never just one-and-done her, though, but she doesn't believe me. Why would she? That's what I do with every other girl here—that's what I always do. But there's just...something about her that draws me to her. She's magnetic. I'd never come-and-go with her. Maybe I'd even date her given the chance. She has me in the palm of her hands and she doesn't even know it. 

\- Anyways, we ended up getting in this huge, heated argument about John and the fact that Billy was being an asshole about all of this and apparently I was being a bitch (no surprise) or whatever, so I drank more and more. And I blacked out and woke up with John in my bed next to me—naked.

\- Now, John and I had had drunk sex before, don't get me wrong. But I had never been blackout drunk. I normally remembered bits and pieces and actually enjoyed it because honestly, I don't enjoy sex with John. That's a problem for another time, though. But John hadn't been blackout drunk, so I freaked out and he just didn't get it and thought I was being super sensitive, then he fucking blamed it on Billy. Apparently, I'm spending too much time with another guy so I'm threatening the relationship even though John knows for a fact that I have way more guy-friends than girl-friends. So I told him to go fuck himself but then he literally threatened to leave me if I didn't stop being friends with Billy and my ass caved like a little BITCH to his stupid fucking ultimatum and I told him I wouldn't be friends with Billy anymore. I never actually made that decision in my head, though. If John really thinks he has that much power over my life, he is sorely fucking mistaken. I love being friends with Billy and I'm being 100% honest when I say that sometimes I have way more fun with Billy and actually prefer his presence. That's probably not healthy, but whatever. I couldn't believe John was that threatened by him to the point where he had to make me choose— I was so angry I can't even describe it accurately.

\- I spent the entire weekend with John and hated every fucking second of it, secretly loathing him for his power move. I thought I was the one who wore the pants in this relationship but apparently, he wants to change that.

\- Yeah, so I thought that the worst of it was over after John left that Sunday night to go back to Chicago, but I was very wrong. I mean, I figured things with Billy would be pretty tense maybe for a little while but he'd get over it, right? Dead. Fucking. Wrong.

I swallowed hard, not really ready for her to tear me apart like I knew she would. But would she be wrong? No, I was a dick to her. I deserve it.

\- That Monday started off pretty normally, and basketball tryouts were that day so I was generally excited for that season to start up. I actually ended up making the guys varsity team since the coach liked me that much, so that was a lot of fun to watch Freckles squirm. I made a bunch of new friends there, too, which made the whole thing pretty great until it was over and we had to go to the locker rooms.

Shit.

\- Billy stopped me before I went in and flirted with me again and again but I had to remind him I was still taken. He actually turned into a BITCH when I did that and started yelling offensive shit and telling me John didn't love me and shit like that and I got so fucking pissed off at him. We literally had a screaming match in the middle of the fucking hallway because he couldn't get over the fact that he couldn't have me for himself. And I told him that. He got impossibly angrier and pushed me against the wall (it didn't hurt or anything like that—honest) but then he stopped yelling after he realized what he was doing. I kinda felt bad for a second but then remembered how viciously we were just fighting a moment ago and all of that empathy went away and I left.

\- God, I REALLY FUCKING THOUGHT IT COULDN'T GET WORSE.

\- AGAIN.

\- I WAS WRONG.

\- Cut to the fucking arcade after Erica had finished teaching me the calculus stuff I missed and Billy storms in looking for his stepsister, Max, who was next to me. We both made snippy comments and then he followed me out into the parking lot and had this huge blowout AGAIN but this time in front of a bunch of people—including Max. Good first impression, Bo. A-fucking-plus. This fight had so much more swears than the others for some reason (I think it was because both of us were actually so tired of fighting that we were done with everything) and I swear to God I actually almost hit him.

\- I almost punched him. He made me so angry I shook. Hands were shaking like I drank too much coffee. It took every OUNCE of willpower in me not to swing at him. And for a second, I think he wanted me to. He just had this look in his eye that I'd never seen before—this aggressive...crazy fucking look and I still can't get it out of my head. I know I get something like that look when I confront people and talk down to them, especially after a physical fight. But I'd never seen it on another person.

\- Well, that's not entirely true. I've seen it on one other person: my dad. But Billy's was much different than my father's. My father's true intentions were to hurt me—I know that. There was absolutely no love from him. None. He gave me that look after he would hit me as a bit of a power move to make me afraid of him. It worked quite well on a four-year-old, believe it or not. But Billy's was entirely different and I could and would NEVER compare my best friend to the person I hate the most in the whole fucking world.

Her dad...hit her? 

My mind flashed to all the times she would avoid questions about her dad and the cynical smile that played on her lips when telling me he split when she was only 6 years old. Her telling me she was glad he was gone and they were better off without him. The odd marks on her arms that she thought her tattoos would cover. It all made sense now. That was the reason she was a hardass: fearless and certainly not one to back down from a fight. Just like me. Just. Like. Me. 

\- Billy's wasn't truly meant to hurt me. I'm not stupid and I'm not trying to sound like some abused housewife or anything. I'm dead fucking serious. I know he wasn't really trying to hurt me, because I see right through his bullshit all the time and this was no different. Underneath that crazy look was this...self-loathing? Is that the word? I don't know how to describe it. It was like he hated himself for what he was saying but he wanted me to keep yelling and keep fighting and maybe even strike him.

\- Self-destructiveness? That's probably more accurate. Billy doesn't even know how dangerous he is to himself particularly, not just to others. Sure, he's the big bad wolf that will rearrange your face if you look at him wrong, but he has these tendencies to put himself in potentially life-threatening situations. It's very stressful to watch in my position so I try to keep him out of them as much as possible and I know I sound like a complete fucking nag when I tell him not to do those things. I'm just worried about him, I guess. He's just like me. Just. Like. Me. I know my tendency to do the same thing and I know how self-destructive I can be when I'm angry or upset in some way especially if alcohol is involved. I don't know about all that soulmate shit and how there's one other person in the world that is an exact match for you, but if I did believe in it, Billy Hargrove is that lucky man.

\- I don't know why I'm ranting or trying to justify this asshole's actions but I knew he was for real after the arcade shit went down and I dropped Max off at their house and he was outside all upset and shit. He actually hugged me. Yeah, you heard me. He was just so sad and just so tired and I think he felt bad about everything that was going on. Then he hugged me. Again. Well, technically I initiated both hugs but he accepted, which, in my professional opinion, is a step in the right direction to getting the Grinch's heart to grow a few sizes.

I snorted out loud, covering my mouth really quickly when I realized just how fucking loud that noise was, then continued reading from there. It was crazy to see everything from her perspective. Invasive? Yes. Necessary? Also yes.

\- He pulled out of that second hug and he did that thing where his eyes went from my eyes down to my lips and back again. Except not subtle at all. Every person on that planet young and old knows what that gesture means and you wanna know the fucked up part? I actually wanted to.

Wait. Wait a damned minute.

I had to reread that sentence maybe around...twenty times? to fully comprehend it.

She wanted to kiss me.

I get girls every day and it's no secret that I've held a bit of a torch for her since she’s literally flawless. But for some lame-ass reason, I couldn't even imagine her wanting to be with me. As much as we flirt and tease and everything like that, I always assume she's joking because I rarely ever am, if I'm honest. She's out of my fucking league and she wanted me. That blew my mind.

\- Yep, you heard me. I wanted to kiss him. SO FUCKING BADLY. I'm so ashamed, I can't even make a joke. I love John, dude, but at that moment, I really really REALLY almost leaned into him. I almost caved. If he gave me those eyes any longer I might have. I've always found Billy attractive, but this was very different. I don't even want to talk about it, I'm still so mad at myself. And because I caught myself, Billy realized I wouldn't do it, and stepped away and yelled stuff about him wanting John to hurt me and that I shouldn't ever come back to him. That we were done.

\- That we were done.

\- NOW, I don't know if you've noticed, but I've never been broken up with before. I am never rejected. I am always the rejector. That's just how life's been for me—I'm fortunate, I know.

\- And I know this wasn't a “breakup” per se. We weren't romantically involved or in love or anything like that, but somehow, some-fucking-way, this was worse. Not only was this the first time I had ever been rejected so outright by a guy (obviously not including Dear Old Dad), but this was a best-friend breakup which tends to be a bit messier than regular breakups.

\- And so, another first for me, he stormed off into his house and slammed the door and I broke down in my car and screamed and cried. I didn't cry about what he said or what he did. As selfish as it sounds, I cried because of my actions. I was the one who was the cockblock here. I was the one who had to keep it at the friend level. I was the one who had to reject this gorgeous man who was literally throwing himself at me for Pete's sake, even though he's probably never been rejected in his life either. And don't get me wrong, I was still mad that Billy couldn't get over this—that he couldn't handle the fact that I was someone else's. But at that moment, I had to blame myself because I understood where he was coming from. Then I cried myself to sleep that night, too.

\- Then, speaking of more self-destructive behaviors, Billy got in a fight the same night and got shitfaced-drunk, drove to my house, and climbed through my window. I was so surprised he even got to my house alive nevermind up onto my roof and into my window. I would have applauded him if it weren't for the overwhelming stench of Jameson Whiskey I knew all too familiarly. He told me what happened and that he was really mad at me but wanted to see me anyways. Then he asked me to sing him to sleep, which I thought was an odd request from someone as tough-guy as he was, but the look on his face was so pure and childlike I honestly almost cried again. So I sang him "Can't Help Falling in Love With You" by Elvis Presley (probably the greatest song ever written in the history of music) and he kinda tensed up 'cause he said his mom used to sing him that as a kid. He'd never talked about his mum before, but he let me continue until he fell asleep softly.

\- That next morning was a shitshow because not only was his ass still mad about the previous few days, but he was also incredibly hungover. I fixed his facial wounds from the fight he'd gotten into (against his will) and we had a bit of an argument about whether or not he should drive home but I caved because he was actually getting pissed again. I gave him his keys back and I made him promise that he ate and drank something other than alcohol to keep his body functional then he left in a huff, leaving me in tears again. And that's the last we've spoken in three days.

\- Might sound like a short time, but a three-day pause in Billy and I's friendship is like a chilly day in hell. Ever since we met, no word of a lie, we've never gone three days without seeing each other. Sounds crazy, I know, but it's just never happened. Even on weekends or some shit, we are always together. Best friends, I told you.

\- So this chilly day in hell is fucking freezing.

\- I miss his annoying, flirty ass. I'm not afraid to admit that. Maybe to his face, I am. I don't know. I love his company too much. We're inseparable in and out of school, it's fucking obnoxious and it's great. I love being the King and Queen. It's too much fun. And I'm always having a good time with him and always laughing and you know that dumb phrase "never a dull moment"? That shit. That's me and Billy.

Scattered throughout the next paragraph were small smudge marks. At first I didn’t know what they were, but as I continued reading, it became more and more likely that they were tear stains that ruined the pen-covered pages. My chest tightened at this thought and I hated so much that I caused her so much pain. If I was being really honest, I didn’t think I meant that much to her and maybe I could keep her at an arm’s length away by fighting with her so I don’t have to worry about hurting her. And now, I ended up hurting her anyways. 

\- But it's done now. Over and out. Ruined. I don't even really know why. We were fine and then we weren't. And now everything sucks and I'm always mad. Mad at him, mad at me, mad at the world. Everything. I miss the way things were and I miss him, too. Shit's depressing as hell. I mean, I guess I have Steve, and while he and I get along, it's just not the same. Not as effortless and exciting and fun and all that. I don't even know what to do at this point. Wait it out? Eh. Talk to him? Hell no. Won't catch me being desperate on my worst fucking day. So I'm stuck and miserable and clearly having a wonderful senior year so far.

\- b

Shit.


	22. back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bo’s pov!!

Bo’s POV

A piercing roar ripped through the air, making Steve, Dustin and I jump from our seats to the windows. We peered out the grate that covered one of the bus windows, trying desperately to pinpoint where the noise came from through the fog. I’d never heard a bear before, but that sure as hell didn’t sound like one. This was much more...demonic. 

“You see him?” Dustin asked. Steve and I shook our heads no. “Lucas, what’s going on?”

I think Steve sensed the fear radiating from my rapid breathing and he put his hand on mine in some effort to tell me I wasn’t alone. I appreciated his gesture with a meager, tight-lipped smile which he returned. 

“Hold on!” Lucas yelled from his position on top of the bus with Max as the lookouts. “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock!” He stammered in fear. “T-ten o’clock!”

Steve pointed out the window to where Lucas directed our eyes and we both saw a little movement. “There.”

“What’s he doing?” Dustin asked. 

“I don’t know,” Steve answered, eyes narrowed.  
There was a low chittering noise that sounded other-worldly echoing across the field—I assumed from Dart. From what I could see, it was sniffing the ground near where we dumped the pile of meat. 

“He’s not taking the bait. Why’s he not taking the bait?” I wondered out loud—quietly, of course. It was true, though. Dart wasn’t eating it. 

“Maybe he’s not hungry,” Dustin spitballed. 

Steve sighed and cocked his head to the side. “Maybe he’s sick of cow.”

“Steve,” I warned. The brunette backed away from the window and I caught his arm. “Don’t. I know what that look is.”

“Have my six,” he told me, gesturing his arms towards the bow and arrows that laid on the seat across from where we were sitting. I pursed my lips and he grabbed the nailed bat. There was no stopping him, huh. 

“Steve?” Dustin called while I slung the sheath of arrows across my body and gripped the bow, following the eldest of our party to the door of the bus. “Bo? Guys, what are you doing?”

Steve turned back to Dustin and let out a breath. He pulled out his zippo and tossed it to Dustin. “Just get ready.”

The tall boy in front of me slid the door of the bus open slowly and we both stepped out with caution. My heart was in my throat and I could barely breathe, but there was no way I wasn’t going to have his back. 

We looked around into the fog for the monster, Steve slowly swinging the bat back and forth threateningly. There was a creaking of metal over by one of the cars to our left, so Steve gave me a nod and I turned around so my back was facing his, and he approached the source of the noise. My eyes darted (no pun intended) around, hoping to absorb any of the light left behind by the moon in order to see just a little bit better in the darkness that surrounded us.

That same noise as before, the chittering one, sounded through the air and I knew we were closer to the creature now. Steve whistled at it like it was a dog. “Come on, buddy,” he goaded with a whistle again. “Come on, buddy. Come on. Dinner time. Human tastes better than cat, I promise.”

“Thanks, Steve,” I whispered, yelled at him, trying to calm my anxiety. He replied with a “sorry” before focusing back on the Demogorgon. His breathing became erratic slowly but surely. “Do you see it?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “It’s the size of a fucking Great Dane.”

My mouth dropped open and I silently prayed to whatever gods there were out there that we’d make it out of this alive. I saw Lucas with his binoculars on the top of the bus make a frantic movement to my left and then once again. 

“Guys!!” He screamed. “Watch out!!”

“A little busy here!!” Steve yelled back. 

“Bo!! Your nine o’clock! Nine o’clock!!”

Steve and I both looked to my left and his right to see this...animal jump onto one of the cars. Immediately, I placed an arrow into the bowstring and pulled it up to my cheek, trying to slow my breathing at the same time. The Demogorgon was on all fours like a dog and seemed to be the size of a Rottweiler. It was bony and slimy and it’s face had five petals like a flower that opened into a mouth. There were no eyes or ears, it just looked like a skinned, walking penis on meth. 

“What the fuck is that?” I asked, knowing full well that this was what we were talking about the whole time. 

“Steve! Bo!” I heard Dustin yell from the bus. The door creaked open and a panicked Dustin yelled again. “Guys! Abort! Abort!”

The Demogorgon in front of Steve growled and ran towards us but I kept my eyes on the two that were beside us. I had the arrow in the perfect position and I wasn’t sure if it would kill one of them, but it was worth a shot. I let one after another fly as the pair of us moved towards the bus, hearing the kids yelling at us to run. The arrows did pierce the hides of the Demogorgons, but they kept on coming, which was absolutely terrifying. Steve broke away from my back to swing at one of the demons on my right and I fired to my left, catching one that was ready to devour Steve right down the throat—it thanked me with a screech that made my ears bleed. 

There was a straight-away path to the bus so I fired one last arrow and grabbed Steve’s unoccupied hand, pulling him with me to the bus. The two of us jumped in and one of the kids closed the metal door as I landed on Steve. Not a second later, the Demogorgons crashed into the panels we lined the door with, making me let out a small scream. 

“Shit!!” Dustin screamed. 

“Are they rabid or something?” Max asked. 

Steve grabbed a spare panel of metal from our left and placed it in front of our feet against the door that the demons were clawing away at. “They can’t get in! They can’t!” Lucas assured as Steve and I were still in full panic mode. 

The entire bus shook and we all screamed, hoping that they would just leave us alone. One of the monsters slammed into the sheet metal and broke through somehow, making Steve and I yelp and back away from the door. He hoisted me off of him and grabbed the nail bat, swinging mercilessly at the thing trying to get into the bus. I ran over to the end of the bus where Max was standing, bow in hand. She wrapped one of her arms around me in fear and I held her protectively, swallowing the fear I had. 

Dustin must’ve had his walkie, but I was too focused on Steve’s actions to look at him. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God! Anyone!”

The metal on the wall next to our heads was bent into and I rushed the kids away from it into the center of the bus—an arrow now tightly held on the bowstring. Max stood on the other side of the ladder opposite me and—THE LADDER. 

“Max!! Get away from there!!” I yelled, pointing the arrow up into the night, into the one weakness of our plan. Dustin was yelling stuff into his headset but I kept the arrow up, waiting for one of those suckers to show it’s face. They clearly weren’t stupid. The clattering by Steve ceased and the impending sound of steps on the top of the bus made my heart beat so fast, I thought I was going to stroke. 

The roof the bus caved with each step the Demogorgon took until it’s ugly, petaled faced appeared and growled at Max. She let out a scream, but was frozen so I had to nudge her out of the way, Steve joining my side with the bat in hand, yelling things but i was too focused to listen to him. The monster’s front...hand? grabbed the top rung of the ladder and I had the arrow ready to pierce directly through its head. The creature’s entire face opened up to reveal rows upon rows of teeth, blasting an air of death our way, making me almost lose concentration and have to vomit again. This was the shit from nightmares. It was screeching at us until it stopped and its face closed, turning its Godforsaken head to its left— almost like it heard something. It pushed itself off the ladder and let our another string of horrific roars out into the night, then jumped off the bus. I still held the arrow to the opening in case it was playing us, but the bus shook like it really did jump off, and the sounds they made retreated away. 

We all looked out the window, breathing heavy and unevenly, when Steve and I relaxed our defensive positions. My mind slowed and I caught something out of the corner of my eye: Max gripping Lucas’ hand. I noticed Dustin had also seen this, so I didn’t tease her for it. 

Steve was the first to exit the bus, the bat ready again, followed by me, Lucas, Max, and Dustin. In the distance, past the fog, we saw figures running away, back towards the forest. 

“What happened?” Lucas questioned. 

“I don’t know,” I breathed. 

“You think you guys scared ‘em off?” Dustin asked Steve and I. 

“No,” we said in stereo. I continued, “No way a few arrows and a bat is gonna scare off whatever the fuck that was.”

Steve nodded in agreement and turned back, the bat on his shoulder casually now. “They’re going somewhere.”

~~~

“How did you learn?” Max asked me, referring to the bow I had in my left hand. The five of us were walking down the path I had previously taken with Steve and Dustin when we sprinkled meat everywhere. 

“Oh, my brother, Shawn, taught me. When I was really little, we used to take family hunting trips but my dad only let Shawn do the hunting ‘cause I was too little, so Shawn taught me to handle a bow rather than a gun. I guess it’s a little more lady-like.”

“Do you get along with him?”

“Shawn?” She nodded. “Yeah, we’re really close. I mean, we steal each others’ shit and we get into screaming matches nearly every single day, but, y’know, I’d take a bullet for him. That’s just siblings, though, I guess: despite everything, you still love them.”

Max stayed quiet and I knew what was running through her little head. “He loves you, too, y’know,” I told her with a little nudge. “Billy, I mean.”

She looked back at the ground and nodded, clearly not believing me. “I don’t know much about Billy’s home life,” I confessed. “I figure it’s not particularly pleasant given how much of a hardass he is, which means you experience whatever happens, too. Billy doesn’t really know how to express what he’s feeling at all, and he certainly won’t willingly confront his issues. I’m not giving you the bullshit ‘he loves you in his own way’ talk, because that means absolutely nothing, but he does care about you, I know that, Max. I know that for sure.” 

She nodded, keeping her eyes away from mine—I assumed she was crying a little bit, so I slung my right arm over her left shoulder and continued walking behind the boys in front of us. 

“You’re changing him, you know,” the redhead eventually said. I cocked my head to the side, urging her to go on. “You make him feel the extremes—I’ve noticed it looking back on it. On the days you guys are great and friendly, especially if you guys were together, he’s calm and never yells and just acts like a normal person. He even smiles sometimes,” she said and I could nearly hear the happiness in her voice. “But the days you guys fight? He’s mad at everything. He just cranks his stereo and locks himself in his room if he’s not on the bench press.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve never seen him like this, though. Tethered to someone else. You make him…” she paused, trying to find the right word. “You make him feel, Bo. So for my sake, can you fix whatever’s going on between you two?”

I chuckled. “I’m trying, hun, but I’ll keep pushing. He’s a stubborn-ass bitch.”

“You’re telling me,” she joked with a laugh that made the boys turn their heads and shush us. We looked at each other and stifled our giggles before joining the conversation being had before us. 

Lucas spoke first: “You’re positive that was Dart?”

“Yes,” Dustin answered, slightly annoyed. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.” 

My face scrunched up in disgust and Max butted in. “He was tiny two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already.”

“Malted?” Steve asked. I closed my eyes and shook my head no as Dustin corrected him. “Molted. Shed his skin to make room for more growth like hornworms.” I mean, and snakes, but hornworms work too, I guess. 

“When’s he gonna molt again?” Max asked him. 

“If he keeps up at this rate—” I started and Dustin finished. “It’s gotta be soon. When he does he’ll be fully grown, or close to it. So will his friends.” 

“Yeah, and he’s gonna eat a lot more than just cats,” Steve noted and I agreed with a nod.

“Wait—” Lucas said, stepping in front of Dustin and blocking his path. “A cat? Dart ate a cat?”

“No. What? No,” Dustin lied. 

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked Dustin.

“Yeah, dude, he ate Mews,” I informed. I knew Dustin was trying to lie to Lucas for some reason but it’s better to get it out now, I guess. 

“Mews? Who’s Mews?” Max asked me, confused.

“It’s Dustin’s cat,” Steve answered before I could. 

“Steve!!” Dustin screamed in an attempt to get him to shut the fuck up. 

“I knew it! You kept him!!” Lucas shouted, pushing Dustin a little bit. 

“No!” Dustin lied again. “No. No, I… No, I… He missed me. He wanted to come home.”

“Bullshit!!” 

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”  
“Oh, so now you admit it?”

“Guys, who cares? We have to go,” Max interrupted, but it was futile. 

“I care! You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!!”

“SO DID YOU!”

“What?”

Steve rolled his eyes and I let out a sigh. Dustin continued yelling and pointed his flashlight in Max’s face. “You told a stranger the truth!”

Max scoffed loudly. “A stranger?!”

“You wanted to tell her, too!” Lucas shouted again. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t, Lucas, okay?!” Dustin yelled back. 

In the distance, I heard a screech from a Demogorgon and looked at Steve before we both looked behind us. Nothing was there, but we knew they were out there. The group of kids kept yelling but Steve shined his light into the woods, both of us with concerned expressions on our faces. 

“Hey, guys?” Steve said, trying to get their attention. T’was for naught. They just kept arguing. 

“GUYS!!” I screamed, making them jump, and bringing their attention to me and Steve. There was another piercing cry that made all of us look in the direction of the noise. Steve gave me a ‘fuck-it’ look and ran up the little hill and into the woods, Dustin and Lucas passing me and following him. 

“No, no, no. Hey, guys, why are you headed towards the sound?!” Max wondered out loud. I looked back at her and rolled my eyes at the boys but motioned for her to follow me and go with them. 

“Better than being alone,” I tried to reason. 

“Is it, though?” She said while catching up to me, making me laugh. 

We all eventually reached a clearing at the edge of the woods on a cliff. “I don’t see him,” Dustin said.

“No shit, kid, there are trees in the way,” I replied snippily and Dustin feigned hurt. 

Lucas put the binoculars up to his eyes and looked out. “It’s the lab.” He lowered them as if he realized something important. “They were going back home.”


	23. to the rescue.

“Wait, so you’re telling me there’s a gate to the Upside Down that’s open in Hawkins?” I asked the kids, horrified.

“Yep, at the lab,” Dustin answered, almost proudly.

“Hawkins Lab as in the same Hawkins Lab that my mum works at?”

Dustin’s eyes widened and I waved it off. “She got off her shift at 5:00. I’m not worried.” Except I was. What if she hadn’t left yet? And what about all of the rest of the people in the lab? Even more pressing: why did my mum never tell me this was her actual job? “Nurse” my ass.

“Oh, Steve, I wanted to ask you what the hell I did on Wednesday that fucked me up so bad?” I asked, turning to him.

“Do you really wanna know?”

“I do,” I said, joined with a few of the kids who I glared at. “I mean, I know I drank a lot, but…”

“Yeah, you did a line of coke, too. I honestly thought you were going to die so I made you come with me to the bathroom and we sat there on the floor until you threw up. A lot.”

“Holy shit, you did cocaine?” Dustin yelled.

“Uhhhh,” I replied guiltily. “I’ve done it once before but I don’t remember doing it this time. Jesus Christ, that must’ve been why the hangover was so bad.”

“Well, yeah, that and the entire tequila bottle you drank and the 49-second keg stand,” Steve added. The kids stopped what they were doing and stared at me wide-eyed.

Mike Wheeler spoke first. “You...did a...forty-nine-second keg stand?”

I pressed my lips into a firm line and glared daggers at Steve. “Thanks, Steve. Embarrassing me in front of our children. I’m a bad parent now.”

“Bo, you’re officially the coolest fucking person I’ve ever met and I claim you as a sister now,” Max declared with an impressed smile.

“How are you even alive?” Dustin asked with a facial expression that was somewhere between impressed and bewildered.

“Kid, I’ve been asking myself that for years,” I replied.

We continued our journey towards the Lab—it was all the boys’ idea, Max and I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. We were nearing an opening in the forest, most likely around the road that entered the lab.

“Who’s there?” I heard a familiar voice yell from the clearing.

“We come in peace!” I yelled back childishly, earning a glare from some of the kids. I jogged up to the front of our group where Steve was and we met our company.

“Steve?!” Jonathan and Nancy said, clearly in shock. “Oh, my God, Bo, too? What the hell?

“Nancy?” Steve replied.

“Jonathan,” Dustin piped in, sounding relieved.

“What are you doing here?” Nancy asked our group collectively, but I figured it was more towards Steve than anyone else. We all congregated in the middle of the grass to discuss this issue that everyone here knew about.

“What are you doing here?” Steve countered, talking with his hands making the flashlight shine every which way.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.”

“They’re not in there,” Dustin assumed, referring to the lab, “Are they?”

“We’re not s-sure,” Nancy replied hesitantly.

Jonathan looked panicked, sensing that Dustin meant if they were in the lab then they were in danger. Which was entirely true. “Why?”

In the distance, but much closer now, we heard the demogorgons screeching. They were howling from inside the building which had gone into a power outage, only the backup generator must’ve been on since the lights were flashing every few seconds. There had to be people in there and if those demons were in there too, then those people didn’t have long.

We were all arguing about how to open the gate since the overall decision was that we had to go into the lab— there was no way Mike, Will, and whoever else was with them had any chance to escape.

“We haven’t seen Will since—” Jonathan started.

“I haven’t seen him since—” Steve interrupted.

“The power’s back!” Nancy yelled, but I was the only one who heard her since I had no idea who this Will kid was. I mean, the whole town knew who he was but I’d never met him, so I felt a bit irrelevant in the conversation. I went over towards Nancy and notice that she was right. All of the lights inside that cursed building came back on, floor by floor until everything was working again.

“Hey, shitheads!!” I yelled, getting everyone’s attention.

Nancy repeated herself, thumb pointing to the building. “Power’s back.”

For a second, everyone looked at each other for no apparent reason and then we all silently decided to run to the gate. Jonathan made it to the security box first pressing every button he could get his hands on frantically. The rest of us looked at the gate, willing it to open, but it wouldn’t.

“Let me try,” Dustin suggested, standing next to Jonathan impatiently.

“Hang on—” The older Byers protested, pressing the button faster.

Dustin shoved him out of the way. “Let me try, Jonathan!”

This kid was the epitome of an annoying sibling but I was pretty sure I’d die for him anyways.

The door didn’t open for Dustin either—not that any of us thought it would. He must’ve been hitting the button for another 30 seconds before it did open. I figured someone on the inside had restarted the power settings allowing the gate to open.

“Hey! I got it!” Dustin celebrated with a chuckle. “I got it!”

Jonathan and Nancy immediately jumped into Jonathan’s beat-up car and started it while Steve and I decided to stay behind with the kids. Plus, there wasn’t room for all of us to fit in and for everyone who they needed to pick up. Steve and I were leaned up against the security booth— him flipping his flashlight in anticipation while I stared at the ground.

“Guys?” Max called, standing in the middle of the road and looking in towards the lab.

Two cars raced down the road, coming at us at full speed and honking, so I grabbed Max too get her out of the way and Dustin and Lucas got out of the way in time, too. Jonathan’s car passed us and kept going while the Chief of Police’s car screeched to a halt.

Jim Hopper, literally the Chief of Hawkins Police, sat behind the wheel and put the car in park, “Let’s go!”

Steve opened up the door and pushed the front seat forward so the kids could pile in the back. He put it back in position, yelling about how we needed to go right now, and I hopped in and sat in between him and Hopper. Steve slammed the door shut and hit the side of the car twice in a panic. “Okay, let’s go!!”

The car ride was nearly silent and we arrived at the Byers’ household in no time. Everyone congregated in the kitchen so we could discuss the plan. Or if we even had one.

Jonathan was talking to an unconscious Will Byers over on the couch while Nancy stood behind him with a comforting hand on his shoulder. Hopper was trying to get ahold of the military to bring in some backup to the lab over the phone, which wasn’t going well. All of the kids sat at the table and Steve walked over to where I was standing, over by the sink. Hopper hung up and we all looked to him for something--anything.

“They didn’t believe you, did they?” Dustin asked him.

“We’ll see,” Hopper answered.

“‘We’ll see’?” Mike Wheeler criticized. “We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!!”

“We stay here and we wait for help,” Hopper commanded. Mike looked nowhere near satisfied with that answer but he knew he couldn’t argue anymore.

A few minutes later, I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear Mike get up and walk to the other side of the room until he opened his mouth. “Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?”

I had no idea who the hell they were talking about, but thought it was probably not a good idea to ask any questions.

“Really?” Lucas asked in disbelief.

“He petitioned the school to start it and everything. Then he had a fundraiser for equipment. Mr. Clarke learned everything from him.” He walked back to the table, a puzzle cube in his hands. “Pretty awesome, right?”

Dustin and Lucas both said “Yeah” at the same time. Mike put the blue cube on the table and looked at his friends. “We can’t let him die in vain.”

“Well, what do you wanna do, Mike?” Dustin asked, frustratedly flailing his arms for a moment. “The Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those Demo-dogs on our own.”

“Demo-dogs?” Max and I questioned in unison.

“Demogorgon,” Dustin paused, holding his left hand out, followed by the right hand when he said “Dogs.” He put them together. “Demo-dogs. It’s like a compound. It’s like a play on words—”

Max looked overwhelmed. “Okay!” She exclaimed softly, probably sorry that she asked.

“I mean when it was just Dart, maybe…” Dustin trailed.

“But there’s an army now,” Lucas said, finishing his thought.

“Precisely.”

“His army,” Mike noted, looking like he’d discovered something important.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“His army!” Mike repeated. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army!”

“Who?” I asked, completely and totally lost. The kids scrambled from the table and into the kitchen. Mike grabbed a piece of paper with a drawing on it and handed it to Max.

“The shadow monster,” Dustin answered me. My eyebrows shot up at that answer.

“The what now?”

“It got Will that day on the field!” Mike interrupted. “The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.”

Max asked the next question. “And so this virus—it’s connecting him to the tunnels?”

“To the tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything!” Mike rambled.

“Like a hive mind,” I mumbled, realizing what I meant.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve interrupted. “Slow down. Slow down.”

“Okay, so, the shadow monster’s inside everything. And if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will,” Mike explained, eyes wide.

“And so does Dart,” Lucas added.

“Yeah, it’s like what Mr. Clarke taught us: the hive mind!”

“That’s what I said!” I said loudly, agreeing with Mike.

Steve looked confused. “Hive mind?”

“A collective consciousness. It’s a super-organism,” Dustin clarified.

“And this is the thing that controls everything—” Mike started.

“That’s the brain,” I finished, cutting him off a little but it didn’t matter. “It’s like the—uh...goddammit, Dustin, what’s the thing from D&D—”

“Like the mind flayer!!” He realized, reading my mind essentially.

“Yes!! The mind flayer!”

Lucas and Mike looked at Dustin and I like we’d just discovered fire. Lucas snapped his fingers into a finger-gun and I chuckled.

“The what?” Steve and Max said in stereo.


	24. master plan.

Dustin found a D&D manual in Will’s room and opened it to the page with the information about the Mind Flayer. “Jesus Christ, I haven’t seen one of those in a while,” I commented quietly while Dustin filled in Max and Steve. Nancy and Hopper joined us as well.

“The mind flayer,” Dustin started.

“What the hell is that?” Hopper asked him.

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient that it doesn’t even know it’s true home. Okay, it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers,” He explained and I chewed on my thumbnail, nodding.

“Oh my God, none of this is real. This is a kid’s game.”

“No, i-it’s a manual. And it’s not for kids,” Dustin defended. “And unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor—”

“Analogy,” Lucas corrected.

“Analogy? That’s what you’re worried about? Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is!”

Nancy threw her hands up in exasperation and looked down at the manual. “Okay, so this mind flamer thing—”

“Flayer. Mind flayer,” Dustin cut her off, him doing the correcting now.

She sighed. “What does it want?”

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

Steve cut in, “Oh, l-like the Germans?”

I was stood next to him and I put my hand on his shoulder to face him to me, mouth hanging open. “You mean the Nazis?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. The Nazis,” he said, realizing his mistake. Dustin and I locked eyes for a moment and silently had a conversation about how stupid Steve was sometimes.

“Uh...if the Nazis were from another dimension, totally. It views other races, like us, as inferior to itself,” Dustin continued.

Mike kept it going. “It wants to spread, take over other dimensions.”

“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it,” Lucas finished.

“That’s great! That’s great! That’s really great! Jesus!” Steve yelled, walking away from our circle at the dinner table and throwing his hands in his hair, stressed clearly.

“Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything,” Nancy started, picking up the manual and walking around, trying to gather her thoughts. “Then if we kill it—”

“We kill everything it controls,” her brother told her.

“We win,” Dustin added.

“Theoretically,” I said, partly because we have no idea if this “shadow monster” follows the same rules as a D&D manual.

“Great,” Hopper chimed in, grabbing the manual from Nancy’s hands and looking at the mind flayer. “So how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?”

“No,” Dustin chuckled. “No. No, no Fire—No Fireballs. Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because…”

And he lost me there. I knew that’s how you defeat the mind flayer, but I had to walk away at that point because I can’t physically handle awkward situations and that shit was gonna be so awkward: trying to explain to a police chief that you need an undead army to defeat a fake monster in a game so it might help in real life. Bye.

“What the hell are we doing here?” Hopper asked rhetorically, throwing the manual on the table in frustration.

Dustin answered him sarcastically. “I thought we were waiting for your military backup.”

“We are!”

“Even if they come, how are they gonna stop this?” Mike yelled back at Hopper. “You can’t just shoot this with guns.”

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!!”

“We know it’s already killed everybody in that lab!”

“And we know the monsters are going to molt again!” Lucas added.

“And we know that it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town!” Dustin piggybacked.

“They’re right,” a tired female voice said from over by the hallway. She was dressed in blue nursing scrubs with a while long-sleeve underneath and her auburn hair was vaguely curled. “We have to kill it. I want to kill it.”

“Me too,” Hopper consoled, reaching for her hands.

“I—”

“Me too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that?” Joyce Byers let out a sigh. “We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“No, but he does,” the younger Wheeler said, looking at Will— still unconscious lying on the couch. “If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will. He’s connected to it. He’ll know it’s weakness.”

“I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now,” Max argued.

“Yeah, but he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

We split off into groups once it was determined that the shed in the back would be a good place to interrogate Will. We’d just have to make it look unrecognizable. Jim Hopper cleaned out the shed of all the shit in it and Nancy and Steve were tasked with stapling the tarps on the inside to hide the walls. Dustin and Lucas went to the side of the house to go through the garbage cans to find cardboard to cover the floor and other parts of the shed that would signal to Will where they were. Mike was under the sink, finding chemicals, while Max and I were duct-taping assorted pieces of cardboard furniture.

“I get why El was your mage now,” she said out of the blue. I assumed it was to Mike so I stayed quiet.

“What?”

“Lucas. He told me all about her.”

“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t have,” Mike spat. “And just because you know the truth, it doesn’t mean you’re in our party. You do know that, right?”

“Mike Wheeler, do I need to knock you upside the fucking head?” I threatened, not looking up from my current duct-taping.

“Yeah, I-I know,” Max agreed complacently. “I mean, why would you want a stupid zoomer in your party anyway? I’m just saying, El? She sounds like she was really awesome.”

“Yeah, she was,” he replied sadly. “Until that thing took her. Just like it took Bob.”

Mike grabbed his supplies and left the kitchen. Max looked down at her hands and I knew I had to play big sister again. “Max?”

“Yeah?”

“I dunno if this helps or anything, but he doesn’t hate you for the reasons you think. He’s mad at the world for taking Eleven, and since she was the first girl in his group, he doesn’t think there should be another.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

I took one of her hands in mine. “Listen, kid, he’ll come around. And in the meantime, there is no way in hell I’m gonna let you compete for his respect. Fuck him.”

Max chuckled at my seriousness and I brought her in for a little hug. “Seriously, though, just give him time. He wants to be bitter and not accept you?—that’s fine. Do your thing and don’t worry about him. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, nodding with a grateful smile.


	25. close sesame.

Once the shed was finished and everything was in place, Jonathan carried in Will Byers and sat him in the cardboard chair. Max, Nancy, Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and I went back to the house to wait for further instructions while those closer to Will stayed in the shed.

Dustin stayed looking out the kitchen window into the backyard until he got antsy and took his hat off, heading into the dining room. Nancy was leaned up against the kitchen wall and Steve was in the living room, swinging the bat around. I was seated at the kitchen table, my crossed legs laying on top of it while I played with the bowstring of the compound bow in my hands. Lucas and Max sat in the hallway, across from each other, conversing about who knows what.

A minute or so passed and the light above the table began flickering, as did every other light in the house and all of us immediately scrambled to look out the window to see what the hell was going on. Nothing happened but we were all on high alert until the backdoor swung open and Hopper, Joyce, Jonathan, and Mike came barging in.

Hopper grabbed a piece of paper from the pile next to the door and sat down at the table. “I think he’s talking, just not with words.”

His pen etched a series of dots and dashes on the paper and began translating it into letters. “What is that?” Harrington asked.

“Morse code,” the boys and I answered together.

The message translated to “HERE” and we all let out a collective sigh. Maybe this would work.

Hopper grabbed a walkie-talkie to convey the message to the one we had at the kitchen table. Dustin wrote the message down and Lucas had the Morse Code in front of him to tell Nancy which letter to write down.

“CLOSE GATE,” we all cited. All of a sudden, the wall phone rang extremely loudly.

“Shit. Shit,” Dustin cursed, running over to the phone, picking it up and slamming it back down. It rang again and Nancy ripped it off the wall to silence it altogether.

“Do you think he heard that?” Max asked us, eyes wide as mine.

“It’s just a phone. It could be anywhere, right?” Steve answered her.

“There’s no way he doesn’t know what phone that is,” I told him. “I mean, think about your phone at home. Don’t you know the exact ring?”

“He knows,” Dustin whispered fearfully. Max looked like she was about to hyperventilate so I took her shoulder under my arm in an effort to calm her down.

‘Way to fucking go, Bo. Send the children into full panic. You’ll make a great mom,’ My conscious scolded.

Not a minute later, Jonathan put an unconscious Will back on the couch followed by Nancy and Joyce. Hopper grabbed a shotgun from the backyard (I figured it was in the shed before we tore it to pieces) and rushed back into the living room, where we all stood.

“Hey! Get away from the windows!” He yelled at the kids who were perched on the couch staring out the front of the house. They jumped away from the glass quickly and I slung the sheath of arrows over my body and rested one on the bowstring. The Chief held out the shotgun to Jonathan. “Do you know how to use this?”

“W-What?” He stammered, clearly answering no to his question.

“Can you use this?” Hopper asked with a sense of urgency in his voice.

“Um—”

“I can!” Nancy informed him, gesturing with her hands for Hopper to throw her the gun. She loaded it and pointed it towards the door telling us she meant business. Steve was next to me and twirled the bat around with his wrist like you would do if you were getting ready to step up to home plate. I pulled the arrow back to my cheek and tried to keep my breathing as steady as possible despite the pounding in my chest.

“Where are they?” Max wondered out loud, panic in her voice. There were small noises coming from outside and it was officially go time.

The noises became increasingly louder and there was a crash on the side of the house, so everyone turned that way. The loud thudding continued and Nancy asked what they were doing—a question none of us could answer. Why weren’t they just attacking?

The bushes visible outside the curtained window in the dining room rustled and I heard some sharp breaths being taken, including my own. A deafening snarl from the front of the house made us all turn back to our original positions and I felt like a sitting duck just waiting to die. It was torturous.

Indescribable noises continued to sound from just on the other side of the wall and we were all blind to what was happening until the monster let out one last loud screech and silenced. For a moment, nothing happened, but all of a sudden, the body of a demo-dog came hurtling through the window. We all screamed and jumped back when it hit the chair lifelessly. Steve and I stared at the thing wide-eyed, waiting for any sense of movement, and Hopper had his machine gun in position to fuck that thing up if the situation arose. Except it didn’t move.

“Holy shit,” Dustin said while all of us tried to regain our steady breathing.

“Is it dead?” Max asked. I mean, all physical signs pointed to yes but the thing didn’t exist in this dimension technically so I had no idea what to expect.

Hopper held his gun in position but gently kicked the head of the demon, the squelching noises making me want to vomit. Still no movement. We all relaxed for a moment before the front door creaked and everyone let out a collective gasp and returned to our defensive positions.

The lock flipped open and I lifted the arrow up again, noticing that everyone else was doing the same with their weapons. The chain on the top of the door slid open and the door was thrown wide to reveal a girl. She had short, dark hair slicked back with hella hair gel, black eyeshadow, a black coat, jeans, and white converse on. For the most part, she looked young—about Max’s age, but the eyeshadow and overall look made her look much older and much more menacing.

At the sight of her, everyone dropped their weapons—including me once I noticed no one considered her a threat. She had a bit of blood dripping from her nose and it instantly hit me who this was when I looked over at Mike Wheeler. This was Eleven.

This wasn’t my cup of tea per se, so I let the people who actually knew her take the stage. I sat on the couch and Steve soon followed. He took my bow out of my hands and I didn’t even notice I was white-knuckling it until he made me release my iron grip.

“Are you okay?”

I obnoxiously moved my head to gesture towards the dead demo-dog in the corner of the room, making Steve follow my gaze. “Yeah, this is all fine. World’s gonna end and I’ll probably die tonight but, yeah, everything’s good.”

He nodded, folding his hands and resting them on the upside-down bat (no pun intended). “I don’t even know what’s going on anymore.”

I rested my head on my hands, elbows balanced on my knees. “Me neither.”

~~~

“It’s not like it was before,” Hopper sighed while we gathered around the kitchen table again. “It’s grown. A lot. And, I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”

Dustin turned around to face him. “Demo-dogs.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, uh, Demo-dogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs. You put ‘em together and it sounds pretty badass—”

“How is this important right now?”

“It’s not, I’m sorry,” Dustin apologized, receding from the conversation.

“I can do it,” Eleven said, referring to closing the gate to the Upside Down that she apparently opened a year or so ago.

“You’re not hearing me,” Hopper argued, shaking his head.

“I’m hearing you,” she challenged firmly. “I can do it.”

“Even if El can, there’s still another problem,” Mike butted in. “If the brain dies, the body dies.”

“I thought that was the whole point,” Max replied, thoroughly confused. It took a moment of thought but I understood what Mike meant. If it was attached to Will Byers, then he would die too.

“It is, but if we’re really right about this...I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army…”

“Will’s a part of that army,” Lucas realized.

“Closing the gate will kill him.”

Shit.

Clearly, Joyce Byers was upset by this realization. We followed her into the room where Will was (he was moved from the couch earlier) and I noticed the window was wide open, curtain flapping in the wind.

“He likes it cold,” she said.

“What?” Hopper asked.

“It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” She shuffled over the window and pushed it closed. “We keep giving it what it wants.”

“If this is a virus and Will is the host, then…” Nancy trailed, which Jonathan picked up: “Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.”

Get it out of him. That way we can close the gate without killing him.

“So if he likes it cold…”

“We need to burn it out of him,” Joyce said angrily.

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time,” Mike suggested.

“Yeah,” Dustin agreed. “Somewhere far away.”

Hopper scooped up Will and wrapped him in a blanket, Jonathan and Joyce following him out the front door. Steve and Nancy offered to go look for space heaters out in the backyard where all the shit from the shed was. I figured I’d stay inside and let them have a talk since they really hadn’t spoken since they broke up.

The groups were finally decided and everyone was on their way. Nancy joined Jonathan and his family to get the mind flayer out of Will. Hopper and Eleven were headed to the lab to close the gate. And Steve and I were tasked with watching the kids.


	26. fight club.

Only my car remained in the driveway as we watched everyone pull out. A moment passed while we watched the taillights of the two cars disappear down the road and I turned to Steve. “I’m gonna head to the convenience store, does anyone want anything?”

“You’re gonna leave us?” Max asked me, clearly still scared.

I pulled her into a hug, “I’m just saying I’ve heard so many stomach growls and we all haven’t eaten in hours.” I released her from my embrace and she flashed me a small smile. “I’m just trying to be a good mom. Plus you’ll have Dad to keep you company,” I noted, gesturing to Steve. The kids let out small laughs and even Steve smiled.

“No requests, though?” I asked, as the last call.

“3 Musketeers!!” Dustin yelled as I opened my car door. I gave him a thumbs up and no one else said anything so I climbed in and started the car.

At the store, I grabbed a six-pack of water and the candy Dustin asked for before quickly paying and heading back to the Byers house. There was a sense of urgency to get back to the house with each press of the gas pedal and pump of the brake I made, but it was nothing compared to the protective surge I felt when I saw Billy’s blue Camaro parked outside the house.

(A.N.: PLEASE NOTE THAT I WILL BE REMOVING THE FACT THAT BILLY WENT AFTER LUCAS BEFORE FIGHTING STEVE. Makes him less villainous and gets rid of the debatably racist storyline!!)

“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered, throwing the car in park and yanking the keys out of the ignition in a hurry. I slammed the car door shut and heard a commotion from inside, making me sprint to the door and open it.

I first made eye contact with Max and everything that followed seemed to happen in slow motion. The kids were huddled over by the entrance to the kitchen from the living room, fear on their faces as I looked to what they were witnessing. Billy was on top of Steve, laying punches right and left onto his clearly beaten cheekbones. The blonde also had blood all over his face, so I was secretly glad Steve was able to get in a few good ones before Billy knocked him out.

Without even thinking about it, I charged on Billy and threw my foot out in front of me, making the ball of my foot catch on his chest, making him fly off of Steve. He looked completely out of it, but sat up when I advanced on him.

“Jesus Christ, Bo, that fucking hurt!” He yelled, trying to get back up, but I shoved him back down onto the ground and straddled his chest, pinning him down. “What the fuck?!”

“Stay down, Billy. And that isn’t a request,” I spat, looking into his angry eyes. I searched the room for something that could keep him down and remembered that Joyce left a vial of the horse tranquilizer on the table over by the kids. “Max!” I yelled, nodding over to the needle and she knew what I meant.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him and his brows furrowed before he let out a strained grunt as Max plunged the syringe into the side of his neck and pushed the medicine in.

“I can’t trust you right now, Billy,” I told him, keeping my voice firm despite the overwhelming need to cry right then. I got up off of him and he got up quickly and looked behind him at Max. My eyes widened and I jumped in between them to protect her from any harm. I didn’t think he would actually hit her but it was a risk I couldn’t take. He seemed particularly pissed off and unhinged and I wasn’t sure what happened earlier but it can’t have been good.

He reached to the side of his neck and pulled the syringe out, examining it before he realized what had happened. “The hell is this?” I held my arms out in front of me as he advanced on us, already appearing to be losing consciousness. “You little shit, what did you do? What did you do?”

He blinked slowly and began to wobble before completely falling to the ground with a thud. I winced, knowing that would hurt in the morning but then the other, rational part of me told me I shouldn’t give a fuck about what he was going through right now. Part of me thought he deserved it. But the other part couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck got him so wound up in the first place.

He started to laugh, partly because the tranquilizer was soaking his brain in a mind-numbing chemical and he was essentially delirious and partly, I think because he was having a pretty shit day. Max looked to our left at Steve’s bat and grabbed it.

She held it above her head threateningly and yelled at him: “From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”

“Screw you,” he said lazily and I resisted the urge to donkey kick him in the shin while I waited for Max to respond.

She swung the bat down and it hit the ground just between Billy’s legs. He lifted his head off the ground to make sure she didn’t hit anything valuable but let out a small sigh of relief as he noticed she didn’t. She wedged the bat out of the wooden floor and brought it back up again. “Say you understand!” She screamed angrily. “Say it! Say it!!”

Billy blinked and licked his lips annoyedly. “I understand,” he caved.

“What?”

“I understand,” he said louder, closing his eyes and officially succumbing to the tranquilizer.

Everyone let out a breath and I lowered to my knees next to him, grabbing the keys to the Camaro out of his pocket. I tossed them to Max, knowing she had already driven before. “I know you guys want to leave, I can feel it. You have a plan?”

Max looked back at the boys and they all nodded profusely. I sighed, internally debating if this was really what I should’ve been doing.

“Take Steve and drive safe please,” I begged and Max nodded. “I’m gonna have a nice, long chat with this idiot. And keep in mind: if you guys die, it’s on me. So for my sake can you please try to not die?”

They laughed and promised me they’d try their best. Mike and Lucas helped me get Billy off of the floor while Max and Dustin got together their supplies for their little mission. Once Billy was off the floor, I took most of his weight on my shoulders and Mike and Lucas helped guide me out the door, down the steps and to the passenger side of my car. One of them opened the door and I turned awkwardly so I could put Billy in ass-first.

“Thanks, guys,” I said, turning to the two boys once I had my best friend secured in the car.

“Are you guys dating?” Mike asked me.

My eyebrows leaped up at his question, even though it’s one that I have to constantly answer. “Nah, just friends. Actually, I mean, we’re in a huge fight right now so we’re just barely friends, I guess.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, then,” he replied politely.

“‘S okay, kid, I get it all the time.”

I rounded the front of my car and opened the door but Lucas walked over to me hastily. “What’s up?”

“I—um, I wanted to ask you if, um, if you think I have a shot w-with Max?”

I smiled widely. “I knew it. God’s honest answer? Hell yeah.” He broke into an enormous, ear to ear grin. “I can talk to her if you want. Not mentioning this conversation, of course, but I can ask her what she thinks of you.”

“You would do that?”

“Since Steve and I have practically adopted your friend group as our children, yes, I would do that. Max is the little sister I never had and I wanna see her happy. And from what I’ve seen when you two are together: she’s happy.”

“Jeez, I never thought I’d be getting relationship advice from Bo freaking Hughes, but here I am. Thanks.”

“Anytime, Lucas freaking Sinclair,” I shot back, repeating his joke and making him chuckle. I looked at the rest of the group, who stood on the porch and gave them a Queen-wave goodbye. “Be safe, my children.”

“We will!” They all shouted back in stereo.

Once I arrived at my house, I noticed Shawn’s car was home, so I quickly jogged up the front steps and into my house to get him to help me.

“Shawn!” I shouted from the front hallway.

“What?!” He yelled back from the living room.

“I need your help!!” His footsteps neared and he appeared around the corner with a concerned expression on his features. “It’s Billy.”

My brother followed me outside into the cold-as-balls night and helped lift Billy out of the car and up to my room. When we set him down on my bed, Shawn looked from him to me to him again, waiting for an explanation.

“Uh, he got in a fight and got knocked out,” I lied. I mean, technically it wasn’t a lie because both of those things were true, it’s just not the fight that knocked him out. But Shawn didn’t need to know that.

“So you brought him here?” I shook my head affirmatively. “I thought you were still in that huge-ass fight.”

“Oh, we are,” I confirmed. “We’re gonna fix that when he wakes up. I’m sick of it. I’m done.”

“Okay, good luck. If he gets to be too much, give me a holler, I guess,” he told me and I thanked him before he retreated back downstairs.

Now all I had to do was try not to overthink while I waited for the tranquilizer to wear off. You can probably imagine how well that went.


	27. too late to apologize.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Billy’s fingers began to twitch against mine. I looked up from my place in The Count of Monte Carlo and noticed his sporadic movements so I turned my full attention to him.

I always admired Billy the most when he was sleeping. It was the only time when I was ever able to see him without a care in the world. He was so blissful, just breathing steadily in and out with his normally intimidating facial expressions at ease. His long, black eyelash-studded eyelids that I envied so much were tranquilly resting closed and he didn’t have even a single sign of anguish or ill-will. The peaceful expression on his face slowly became more tensed and his eyes shot open abruptly.

“What the fuck?” He yelled hoarsely, sounding winded with his labored breathing.

“You’ve been out for a while, Billy. Just breathe, you’re okay,” I reassured. Apparently my whole initial game plan of being a heartless bitch to him when he woke up just went right the fuck out the window. Something about his stressed and almost-frightened actions made me soften inside.

“What happened?” He queried, leaning forward to a sitting position with difficulty, face scrunching in concentration. My left hand reached out to steady his shoulders so he didn’t fall sideways on the bed and he gave me a grateful look. I figured the tranquilizer hadn’t completely worn off yet.

“You were kicking Steve Harrington’s knocked-out ass and I got you off of him. Then I had Max sedate you because something told me you were too pissed off to stop and you passed out,” I summarized, staring at him worriedly.

He took a breath and then his face twisted angrily. “You had her...sedate me?”

“Yeah,” I answered honestly, not backing down from his clearly vengeful glare. “And I’d do it again. Steve was out cold and you kept swinging. You could have fucking killed him. You know that?”

As he took in my words, the anger faded away and regret replaced it. Genuine regret. I almost felt bad.

“Billy,” I started with a sigh. “I dunno what happened tonight. And I’m not going to ask ‘cause I have this sneaking suspicion you won’t tell me either way. What I do know is that this week has been one of the worst of my life and I’m so fucking done. So you have two options here, okay?”

His eyes met mine again as a form of recognition to my words.

“Either we erase the past week completely and just go back to the way things were when we were great fucking friends and had the time of our lives together. Or, this is it. We cut it off here. I’m sick of living in the middle, it hurts too much,” I told him honestly.

I followed his gaze down to our intertwined hands and I pulled away momentarily before he caught my grasp and held my hand in his gently. Almost like he was afraid of what his hands would do if he held too tightly, but he held on hard enough to tell me not to let go. I smiled lightly and took his hand fully back in mine, pulling him up off the bed to stand next to me. I led him down the stairs slowly and into the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet and turning the nozzle on the shower.

“What are you doing?”

“You need to wash all that blood off of you and I happen to be in a forgiving mood. I’ll grab you some sweats and a towel—be right back,” I announced, twisting the handle on the door to leave before he stopped me.

“Bo?”

My eyebrows were up at his question and he looked from his hands to me and back again. “What’s up?”

“Uh...I—um…” He stuttered, trying to form a coherent thought.

I grinned and let go of the handle, striding back over to him and gently cupping his face with my hands so he looked up at me. I brushed some of his curls out of his face and examined the cuts and marks I was sure would turn into bruises. His blue eyes bored into me and he just seemed so off. Something was wrong but he wouldn’t tell me.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the enunciation making the stubble along his jaw scratch my fingertips.

“Are we cool?”

He nodded firmly and I let out a breath I’d been holding for at least a week. I leaned in and kissed his sweaty forehead and I felt him physically relax into me, wrapping his arms around my waist to simply hold me there. I detached my lips from his skin but he insisted that I stay for a few more seconds, so I allowed him to lay his head flat against my chest while I embraced him back. It was silent and intimate and extremely vulnerable of him—especially after the shit he just pulled not more than two hours ago. But after the interdimensional shit I had to deal with before that, this was exactly what I needed. This made me think—I know it’s naive—but maybe things would be okay for at least a little while.

“Let me go get your towel, I don’t want you to run out of hot water,” I suggested, pulling away slightly.

He glanced up into my eyes and had one of the most boyish expressions I’d ever seen on him and that beautiful smile on display. “Will you join me?”

“There he is,” I giggled, pecking him on the top of his beautiful dirty-blonde head before exiting the bathroom and grabbing a towel from the linen closet. I was considering grabbing some of Shawn’s clothes for him, but I remembered I had a bunch of Shawn’s shirts and sweatpants I stole so I grabbed a pair of those and headed back to the bathroom.

I knocked lightly. “Come in!” Billy shouted over the loud stream of water coming from the showerhead. I entered and silently thanked God he was fully in the shower and not just standing there naked. I couldn’t tell you why, but I was sure that’s something he would do.

“What’d ya bring me?” He asked while popping his sudsy head out from behind the shower curtain.

I held up the items as I listed them off: “Shirt and sweatpants, towel, and face cloth so you can clean the blood off your face.”

“Aw, c’mon, babe, you know I like it when you do that for me,” he flirted and I shook my head with a laugh. I tossed him the small cloth and he grabbed it, disappearing behind the curtain again. “Thanks...Again, I guess.”

“You’re welcome, my love. Do you require anything else of me?” I asked him sarcastically in a British accent.

“Well,” his head came back into view again with a hopeful expression. “If you’re offering, I’d probably die for you to help me reach all those places I can’t reach to wash because I’m so sore.”

“Suck my dick,” I scoffed playfully while putting all the rest of the items he needed on the sink— within reach once he exited the shower.

“That would work, too,” he chirped back and I belly-laughed, which he reciprocated.

Remember what I said about our friendship? That it was effortless? Well, I’m pretty fucking excited to announce that nothing’s changed and we’re officially back to our regularly-scheduled programming. At least, nothing’s changed on my end: I can’t really speak for Billy. But from what I’ve gathered, he feels the same.


	28. i'm fine.

“Billy?”

“Hmm?” He looked up from his place in the book he was pretending to read, The Great Gatsby.

“You look anxious, are you okay?”

“I don’t look anxious,” he snapped quickly. I rolled my eyes at his lame attempt to change his facial expression.

“Look, if you’re nervous about me meeting your parents, don’t worry, parents love me,” I joked. The day after Billy and I made up, he wanted to get me caught up on the stuff from the two days of school I missed. I saw right through it and knew he just wanted an excuse to hang out since we hadn’t in a fucking minute, so we decided to kick it at his place.

Billy’s face held it’s stoic position and I cocked my head to the side in confusion.

“Do you not have faith in me?” I asked while pouting.

“Bo, can you please just shut the fuck up?” He yelled, exasperated.

“Okay, I’ll be extra nice to the parents. Y’know, you could talk to me about whatever’s bothering you instead of being a defensive douchebag about it.”

“And you could stop talking altogether instead of being a pushy bitch about it.”

I rolled my eyes at his insult. Maybe his parents were just real hardasses.

Just then, we heard the front door squeak open and then slam shut. I looked over to Billy, who was avoiding my gaze but his eyes were everywhere. His hands twiddled and the mood of the room instantly changed to one of pure and unbridled anxieties.

“William!” A voice boomed from down the hall, presumably the kitchen. Billy looked like someone kicked his puppy as he got up from his place on the bed, walked past me, and out into the kitchen. I didn’t follow him because I assumed he was gonna get yelled at, but I stood in the doorway of his bedroom to listen.

“Didn’t I ask you to do the dishes?”

“Susan did,” Billy corrected.

“Then why isn’t it done?” The intense voice asked, clearly getting angry.

There was a bit of silence before Billy answered. “I was out with a friend and then we came back here to study.”

“Is this friend a female?”

“Could be.”

“I really, really don’t have time for your sarcasm, now, William. And how—”

There was a loud crash and something hit a wall with a shit ton of force because it shook the house. Who I assumed to be Mr. Hargrove started to raise his voice.

“How many times have I told you, boy,” smack, “You do not neglect your family for another,” smack, “Fucking,” smack, “Whore!”

Before I even knew what I was doing, I started to run down the hall, and the sight before me brought tears to my eyes. Billy’s whole personality and character all of a sudden came together in my mind. Everything about him suddenly made perfect sense.

Mr. Hargrove looked at me with a ferocity I’d seen all too familiarly as I witnessed him abusing his only son. He had Billy pinned up against the kitchen wall with his left hand, while his right rested by his side—red as a tomato. The left side of Billy’ face had a crimson, outlined handprint on it. As I further noticed all of these things in horrible detail, the tears spilled over the brim.

“What are you doing?” I asked hoarsely, barely loud enough for Mr. Hargrove to hear.

“Bo—” Billy began to protest, but shut up when his father turned and literally growled at him. Mr. Hargrove looked back to me, and Billy’s eyes were beyond apologetic and helpless.

“Teaching my son a lesson,” he answered, low and guilty, but still sounded like it was justified to him.

My face contorted and I stared the angry man directly into his raging pupils. “Well, if you continue to do this, and he continues to not listen, then maybe you should change your method.”

Mr. Hargrove stared at me, letting Billy go from the wall, and began to advance on me. “May I ask what you suggest as an alternative? Bo, was it?”

“Maybe actually be nice to your son and connect with him like a real father. Maybe then he’ll value your opinion and do the things you ask because it’s something he won’t mind making a priority,” I answered.

I could immediately tell that the “like a real father” part was a mistake. Mr. Hargrove face started to turn red from humiliation. I was being logical and he was probably gonna do something irrational and stubborn like his son does so often.

I couldn’t have predicted that he was going to swing his arm over and hit me across the face, too, though.

Side note: no wonder Billy could take regular punches like they were nothing. His father’s swings were fucking terribly painful.

I was knocked onto the ground and my vision went blurry for a few seconds. The terrible pain in my left orbital bone told me skin broke, and as for my nose, it was obviously fractured in at least one place. I heard Billy yelling my name but I couldn’t respond because of how dizzy my mind went.

“Do not tell me how to parent my own poor-excuse-of-a son in my own goddamn household,” he spat viciously.

I got up, a little wobbly, and shook my head to make the daze go away. I looked over to Mr. Hargrove, who stood maliciously about 3 feet away. And suddenly I was looking at my father. When he would “teach me a lesson”, he had that same fucking menacing look on his face. The same smirk. The same narrowness of his brows. The same flare of his nostrils. Everything was identical. My fists balled and I teared up just a little, everything in my body shaking with rage. There was absolutely no one on this Earth I hated more than my father.

“Hey, son, you might’ve picked a bitch but at least she’s a fucking pretty one. I mean, Jesus Christ, look at that face. The things I would do—”

The amount of pure rage fueling my punch caused there to be an audible crack when it connected with Billy’s father’s jaw. I don’t think I’d ever swung so hard at someone. He fell to the ground and groaned, barely able to move. My knuckles screamed but it was worth it to see him in pain. Blinded by nothing but fury, I continued my assault recklessly against the spitting image of my father who lay on the ground before me: I sent two hard kicks into his chest cavity then spit on his face, smirking at the noises he made that demonstrated he was in agony.

“That’s what you fucking get, you sick son of a bitch. If I find out you lay a finger on your son again, I will personally call the cops and testify against your ass in court for child abuse and assault to minors.” He looked back at me once he rolled over, clutching his jaw in shock but anger blazing in his eyes. I leaned closer to his face with my own, much greater degree of ire. “Don’t even fucking try me, old man.”

Billy ran over me with a heart-breaking expression as he realized I was about to pass out after the huge adrenaline rush. He scooped me up into his arms to run out of the house and away from his injured father.

My blonde best friend drove recklessly as he always did, but this time, he gripped the steering wheel and hit the gas and breaks with a special kind of rage I’d never encountered before. I honestly wasn’t all that sure if he was more angry at his father or at me for provoking him—or even for punching him. The whole ride was dead silent until Billy let out a sigh of slight relief when he saw that my mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway and neither was Shawn’s.

He got out of the car and sprinted over to the passenger side. His eyebrows were knitted together as he cautiously lifted me out of his car bridal style in silence. Billy kicked the door shut which significantly marked the first time he ever mistreated his car because God knows he loves that thing more than anything else in the world.

We went up to the steps and he bent down—still holding me tight—and lifted the mat underneath us to get the key. The boy carrying me quickly unlocked the door and shut it behind us before heading up the stairs to my room. He gently laid me down on my messy bed and disappeared out the door. I really thought Billy had left the house altogether until he came back into view with a wet towelette and a bag of ice.

I sat up instantly and silently watched as he held the cool towel to my cheek. Its contrast against my burning skin from his father’s punch made me flutter my eyes closed. The ice was placed in the piece of fabric soon to stop the swelling. I thought about how many times Billy would have to do this for himself and opened my eyes to meet his sad ones.

“You need one, too,” I croaked out.

His piercing blue eyes locked with mine and I gave him a pleading look. He shook his head no.

“Billy, stop being stubborn for once and let me help you. Please,” I protested. I shifted my legs to go get up and get something for him, but he sat down on my legs and blocked my path. “I want to help, please let me.”

“I don’t want your fucking help, let me do this,” he said harshly, keeping his gaze on one of my pillows. I put the ice on my bed and took his face in my cold hands. He cringed at the sudden contact on the left side of his face, and I gave him a knowing look.

“I don’t really give a damn if you want my help or not, Hargrove. You fucking need it either way, and you know that somewhere inside.”

He stayed silent and his bright eyes followed my actions with childlike curiosity. I wondered if anyone else had done this before, but the longer I thought about it, the more likely it became that I was the first. I stood up after shoving Billy’s ass off of my legs and took one of his hands in my right and the ice for me in my left. We got down to the fridge and I got out one of the hidden basketball ice packs I had from the back of the freezer.

I couldn’t reach his forehead without it being really uncomfortable, so I pushed myself up onto the countertop and pulled him close to me. He flashed me a trademark smirk and I rolled my eyes with a small smile. His eyes only spoke of sadness, despite his flirty demeanor—this was him at his most vulnerable and I, too, understand what it’s like to cover trauma up with humor.

“Sorry I didn’t get you one of those—”

“Don’t apologize for anything right now, please, Billy. None of this is your fault.”

I knew he disagreed with my statement, but he stayed uncharacteristically quiet as I worked. I put an ice pack in a paper towel and opened my legs for him to stand between. Normally, I would have thought he would try and make a move, like sliding his hands up my thighs. But this wasn’t really a normal circumstance, so that didn’t happen. He had a look of confusion and bewilderment on his beaten face and his body language threw me for a loop. His back wasn’t cockily straightened like it normally was, and he wasn’t leaning into me like he normally did when he got within a few inches of me. Instead, he reluctantly advanced closer to me and I held the pack up to his red, beaten face. Some of his blonde hair fell into his face and I quickly reached up to tuck it behind his ear, which he weakly smiled at—quickly wincing at the movement in his facial muscles.

“Your nose looks really fucking bad,” he commented quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks,” I snorted sarcastically.

He brought his eyes to meet mine unwillingly, “I didn’t mean it like that, I mean...do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“Billy, if I wanted to be at the hospital, I’d be there. I’m okay as long as I keep ice on it and try and put my nose back in place soon.”

“It’s broken? We gotta go then. You need professional help or some shit.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to have to lie to them about what happened, and I know how to unfuck my nose, don’t get your panties in a twist over it.”

I realized that the last part was a bit insensitive when he didn’t respond, he just looked down. I put the ice pack on the counter and held the right side of his face in my small hand.

“I’m sorry, I‘m really not good at this at all if you didn’t already know that.” I laughed humorlessly and he gave me another half-assed smile. “I just meant I’ve gotten my nose broken more times than I can count in basketball, so I’ll be alright—there’s really no reason to worry—”

“I’m sorry,” Billy interrupted, almost inaudibly. He kept his eyes away from me and focused on something on the counter.

I scoffed, “For what, Billy? This isn’t yo—”

“Don’t fucking say it isn’t my fault because it is and you know it is. I should have locked you in my room or had you leave. I should have defended you, Bo, I didn’t—” I could almost hear his throat closing and he closed his beautiful eyes, showing off his long lashes. His voice was broken when he spoke again. “I—I should have done something: I just stood there like a fucking idiot, and I—”

I threw my arms around him gently, pulling him closer to me and shutting him up. He immediately responded, squeezing me tight in his strong arms against him, which I didn’t mind by any means. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling and exhaling shakily—I could tell he was crying but I didn’t mind that either. I lightly pressed my lips to the exposed part of his shoulder near his neck in an effort to comfort him a bit, and he responded with a big intake of breath and a tighter grip on my torso. It wasn’t a crushing grip, it was something I needed: familiar and pure.

“It’s okay,” I whispered gently while rubbing his back a bit in comfort. “We’re okay, Billy, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s fucking not,” he cried, his deep voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Bo, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

The pure pain in his voice shattered my heart. My shoulder was a bit damp soon but it didn’t bother me at all because I’d never seen Billy so broken. So defeated. I thought about all of the times he’d lied to me about his wounds and all of those times I completely fucking missed the signs. How could I have missed them? How? I went through the same fucking shit and I still missed them? How fucking stupid am I?

“Baby, shhh, it’s okay. Really, I’m okay—”

He pulled out of our tight embrace for just a moment and his saddened face made the tears fall down my face. His eyes were bloodshot, his face wet, and eyebrows furrowed but not in an aggressive way. “You don’t get how much I blame myself for this, do you? You just had to go through that which probably brought you back to memories of your dad and I don’t want this for you—I, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”

“William Michael Hargrove, look at me.” I put my hands on either side of his angelic face to force him to look at me. His beautiful blue eyes met mine reluctantly and he looked like he could break again at any second. “You had nothing to do with this. This isn’t going to end what we have and it certainly doesn’t change my mind about you. You’re embarrassed and you feel responsible, but you also need to hear that I don’t blame you in a single way for any of this. I’m the one who provoked your dad, you did not.”

“Yeah, but I—”

“No ‘but’s, Billy. Yes, you were correct in saying that he reminds me of my father because he does. After he struck me, his face changed into my dads and that’s why I swung so hard back at him. I never fought back my whole childhood because I thought somewhere, deep down, he loved me. After he left it became quite clear that he never actually gave any amount of fucks about me. He loved Shawn, not me. So I saw my dad and got really fucking mad.” I sighed heavily, dropping my hands from his cheeks. “Well, I mean, of course seeing you get pissed on by your dad had already put my rage levels at a dangerous height, so it didn’t take much for me to snap.”

“I’m sorry,” he said one last time, taking a deep breath and ceasing the tears.

“If you apologize again, I’m gonna tickle you to death,” I chuckled.

Billy’s face twisted into a confused one. “What?”

“You heard me,” I leaned forward toward him mock-threateningly.

“I’m not ticklish,” He said seriously. I squinted my eyes and smirked, looking for any sign on his face to say he was lying: his eyes gave him away.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I verify that fact then?” I provoked playfully. Billy broke out into a nervous smile and backed away from the counter, of which I hopped down from and advanced on him slowly with my arms out in front of me menacingly. His back hit the table behind him and he looked like a cornered animal. Once I got within a few feet of him, he grabbed my forearms so I couldn’t tickle him and put them around him in an effort to distract me with another hug.

I hugged back at first, laughing at his childish reaction to my tickle threat—I mean, I couldn’t blame him, I was terribly ticklish myself, and he already knew that. Then I slowly moved my hands to reach his sides and I wiggled my fingertips against the sensitive area where most people are ticklish. He giggled—a noise I never thought I’d hear but it was a noise I could die hearing, one I would never get used to but never get tired of. I looked up at Billy and he was actually blushing that he reacted that way, but he quickly recovered by plastering a mischievous look on his face.

I knew immediately what he was going to do, so I tucked my tail and sprinted out of the kitchen and up the stairs two at a time—Billy on my heels. We were both laughing the whole time, and I tried to close my door behind me once I reached my room, but he was too close, so he pushed it open. I jumped on my bed and hid underneath the covers like a child, breathing hard and awaiting the ticklish torture he had in mind.


	29. confessions.

“Billy!!” I screamed between laughs, trying my absolute hardest to fight off his merciless attack on my sides with his fingers. He was very much stronger than me so this task proved to be of great difficulty. “P-Please!”

“Please what, babe?” He asked with the most evil of grins on his face.

A tear slipped out of the corner of my eye and I kept laughing— so hard that I could feel a six-pack coming up. “I can’t breathe, please!!”

He chuckled at my helplessness and let up, finally allowing me to catch my breath. Although I lost it again when I opened my eyes and saw how goddamn close we were. To an outside eye, it would surely look like we're a couple and the position we were in would suggest we were doing something a lot less innocent than tickling each other. Billy’s hips were in between my legs, which were comfortably wrapped around his waist to keep him close. As wrong as the position was, it didn’t feel wrong to me and I wouldn’t have even noticed it if I didn’t look.

He wiped the tears that had fallen from my eyes with a huge smile on his face and leaned in to kiss my forehead with an unheard-of gentleness. I wasn’t really sure why intimacy was Billy and I’s default setting when we were together, but it was so comfortable and familiar and never felt forced. He took note of my hesitancy to stay put in our current situation and reached down to move my legs off of him while I watched his actions intently. He fell onto his side next to me and swiftly guided his arms underneath my small frame to tenderly pull me against him. My head rested on him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and our chests rose and fell in tandem, rocking me to sleep.

~~~

“Bo?”

I hummed in response, wiping the sleep from my eyes and attempting to wake myself up.

“Oh, shit, you’re still asleep,” he whispered. “Nevermind, then.”

“No,” I grumbled. “I’m up now, what’s up?”

“Really, it’s okay. If you’re tired—”

“Billy?”

“Yeah?”

“Spit it out.”

He took a deep breath, making his chest inflate— lifting my head up with it. I gently stroked his bicep, urging him to go on. My eyes were heavy still, but I was very much awake when he finally told me what was on his mind: “I, um, I wanted to ask you about your, uh, about your dad.”

Knew that was coming. I sighed and sat upright on the bed, Billy mirroring my motion.

He continued, “You don’t have to. I just, uh…”

“No, it’s okay. You should know. You deserve to know,” I told him honestly. He nodded and warily took my hands in his the way I would when sensitive topics were at hand.

“It really started before I was born, I guess. My dad was an only child to a single mom and she was an alcoholic. She, uh, she beat on him a lot, I guess, and he grew to just hate women. That was until he met my mum. She was the love of his life and he really, actually loved her. Uh, they got married and had my brother and then six years later my mom had me. I wasn’t planned and I was a girl.”

Billy met my eyes sympathetically and I think he saw where this was going, but he let me continue with a silent nod.

“So not only was my dad pissed about having another kid since he only wanted one, now he had to deal with a girl. I don’t have a single memory of him ever being kind or fatherly with me—not one. He loved Shawn more than my mum, and so, naturally, that made me jealous and I pushed myself harder to win over my father. Everything Shawn did was right in his eyes. Shawn could fuck up so bad at something, but there was Dear Old Dad, right by his side to reassure him and tell him everything’s okay. But nothing I did could ever satisfy him. He hated me—”

Billy opened his mouth to tell me I was wrong, but I beat him to it. “Don’t fucking tell me he didn’t, Billy, we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

He noticed the pure anger gracing my features and held my hands tighter in his, making me smile temporarily.

“My parents are both naturally smart and have high IQs, so Shawn and I got that, too. I started walking at six months and talking even earlier. Shawn got me into basketball and I was playing by four. I was...I was a gifted kid. But none of it was good enough. And every time I would fuck up, my dad dealt the punishment and it…” My voice involuntarily changed to a whisper to keep from breaking. “It was always so bad, Billy. It was so bad—”

He cut me off with a bone-crushing hug which I returned in less than a second. He knew what it was like and I think he knew he was the first person I’d shared this with. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

I continued talking into his shoulder. “He only ever hit Shawn when he would defend me or if he tried to stop him. And then my punishment would be that much fucking worse. He would tell me it was my fault Shawn got a beating, too.” I sniffled, not even realizing I was crying until this moment. Billy’s hand ran up and down my backside and I relaxed into his touch, trying to even my breathing as much as possible. “And my mom knew he didn’t like me and she tried her best to change that. She, uh, named me after him. His name was Bernard and mine is technically the ‘feminine’ version of that. She meant well, but I honestly think it just made it worse. And I remember telling Shawn that I hated my name and he came up with ‘Bo’ as a nickname ‘cause it’s far more masculine than ‘Bernadette’.”

“That’s why you hate people calling you that,” my blonde best friend realized.

I nodded, sniffling some more before pulling away from him completely. “When I was six, I smartened up and realized I was never going to win his affection—that it was out of my hands at that point. And around January, I think, I got into a fight with him and my mom heard and she found out how bad it was getting for me and threatened to call the police on him. He lost it and I remember asking him why the fuck he had kids if he didn’t want a daughter, like, you can’t choose the fucking gender. He told me he was willing to roll the dice to have a son and that I was the biggest mistake he ever made. He was gone the next morning.”

“My God, Bo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was that fucking bad, Jesus,” Billy cursed with his eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s fine,” I wiped my eyes, knowing any makeup I had on was absolutely ruined. “When he was gone, my mum kinda lost it. She shut down for a while because of the heartache and all I had was Shawn to take care of me. Shawn tried his best to help me hide my scars but it wasn’t until I was twelve when his best friend offered to help. His family, uh, owned a tattoo parlor down the street and he offered to do mine for free, so…”

I twisted my wrists to put my sleeves on display for Billy to see. “They hurt a fucking lot, but not any more than the injuries they cover. Plus I look like a badass, so it’s cool with me,” I laughed humorlessly.

Billy’s fingers traced the intricate designs of my tattoos with the lightest of touches, making goosebumps erupt along the inked skin. He reached a patch of skin that was tougher and smoother than the others in the vague shape of a circle. “What’s this?”

“What does it look like?”

The pad of his thumb ran over the small, distinct circle a few times before he abruptly stopped and looked up at me with sad eyes. “Is this from a cigarette?”

I didn’t have to answer him verbally because I think my face told the whole story by itself.

His voice was shallow when he spoke again and he seemed hurt and angry at the same time. “He put out his cigarettes...on you?”

A tear slipped out of my right eye followed by another and another as I gave him a quick, spastic nod in confirmation.

“Fuck,” he breathed, pulling me back into his arms and holding me there while I sobbed my life away. All of the pain and memories of those awful times came flooding back and I couldn’t stop them. I built up all of those walls to lock that shit away in the back of my mind but it all came flooding back and it sucked. “Breathe, babygirl, it’s okay. He isn’t here. You’re okay. He won’t hurt you anymore, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, Billy,” I cried helplessly letting my mind wander to what the fuck would happen were he to come back.

Billy took my face in his rough hands so we were face to face. His thumbs wiped away the fallen tears, but more came despite his efforts. His gaze went down to my lips just once and I could almost see the wheels turning in his brain deciding on whether or not to do it. He settled for a kiss to my forehead and my eyes closed at the contact.

“I promise you he will never hurt you again. Over my dead body, Bo,” he mumbled against my skin.

And I believed him.

So I wanted to show him something I hadn’t ever shown anyone, now that we were breaking all of these records already. I guided Billy’s hands from my face to my lower back and under my shirt. His flirty smirk fell when his fingertips felt the skin there. How torn it was. How fucking damaged and ugly.

“What the fuck is that, Bo?” His eyes widened when he asked the question. I turned around and sat on my heels, slowly taking my shirt off all the way to give him a better view. I did have a bra on, but I don’t think either of us was in the mood to throw around any innuendos. “Jesus H. Christ.”

“His parting gift,” I explained, pulling my raven hair to the side.

His fingers danced on the marks, feeling the drastically different skin types from my regular skin to the scar tissue. His touch made me flinch a few times, not used to any sort of contact there really ever.

“Baby,” he breathed heavily. “How—?”

“Belt,” I cut him off, knowing what the question was before he even asked it. “A leather belt.”

“I’ve never seen a belt do this,” he confessed, sounding like he didn’t believe me.

“My mum, um, she had this brown leather belt with tassels decorating it and the tassels had these beads on the end held on my little metal clips and—”

Billy pressed his chest against my back and completely engulfed me in a hug from behind. I think he could imagine how much it hurt, how much pain it caused me, how much it affected me both physically and emotionally. This is why I never let him keep his hand on the small of my back—why I never let anyone keep his hand there. Not John, not anyone.

“Does Davis know?” He asked, almost reading my mind.

“No,” I replied with a sniffle.

“Even when you’re...y’know…?”

I nodded. “I didn’t want him to see so I don’t ever let him put me in a compromising position during sex. I’m the top in the relationship, so it’s not really a problem.”

He chuckled—the sound music to my ears during this heavy conversation. The vibrations echoed into my chest as well and I found myself wearing a genuine grin.

Billy’s curls tickled my neck when he planted light kisses on my shoulder to tell me everything’s going to be okay. He shifted on the bed—still holding me tight against him—so we were laying down again.

“Still the most beautiful girl,” he said, giving my shoulder one last kiss.

“They’re ugly, Billy.”

“Are they supposed to be pretty?”

I knew he was right, but they were still the worst physical part of me. My only visible insecurity. The one thing about myself that I loathed that I couldn’t change.

“If you never told anyone about these, why me?”

I raked my nails across his forearms back and forth nervously. “I trust you. And you know what it’s like. You get it. No one else does.”

He stayed quiet but I felt the pillow move, so I figure he nodded. He pressed his lips to the back of my head once more before we both relaxed into each other and drifted off again.


	30. other lover.

The last few weeks were so emotionally draining, I thought I was going to die, no joke. I’d finally been getting back into the swing of things when John crossed my mind. The only solution to my problems with him would be to face-to-face solve them or just to break up. And I’m a little ashamed to say at this point I was more ready for the latter.

“Ma?”

“Yes, dear?” My mother answered from down the hall. I walked down to greet her.

“Do you think I’d be able to go visit John this weekend as long as I’m back by Monday?” I asked her, a childlike, hopeful expression on my face, hoping I would sell it.

She pondered my question for a moment. “Do his parents approve and have an extra room for you?”

I nodded my head yes to my mother’s question and she pursed her lips. “Well, alright, Bernadette. Be careful, please.”

“I will, Mum, and thank you!!” I squealed and hugged her. She broke into a huge, dimpled grin that I wished I got the gene for.

I bolted up the stairs and lugged out a small suitcase I’d used for moving. From bras to shampoo, I began to pack everything I would need for the two days I’d spend at the Davis residence if John and I were able to sort things out. I was in the middle of picking out which pairs of underwear I figured John would favor when I heard a tapping noise on my window.

The blinds were closed but I could hear the window open from the outside, and I almost screamed when none other than Billy Hargrove popped his head through the opening in my curtains with a huge smile. I immediately started shaking my head and attempting to get my breathing back to normal as he slipped into my room with ease.

“Fuck you,” I said with a fake pout. He, on the other hand, was still cracking the hell up.

“Oh, doll, if only you would. If only you would,” he replied, finally calming himself down. His electric-blue eyes landed on the open suitcase on my bed and he gestured to it. “Where are we going?”

“Funny,” I mocked, taking one of my favorite lace bras from his grasp while he ogled at it.

“Visiting the boyfriend?” Billy sneered.

I shot him a glare. “Actually, yes, I’m visiting John this weekend, if you must know.”

He rolled his eyes and completely stretched across my bed, his leg on a pile of my clothes I needed to fold and put in the suitcase. I sighed and pushed his surprisingly heavy leg over. “Move, you big bitch.”

He sat up and looked me in the eye. “Why are you visiting him?”

“Because he’s my boyfriend and I miss his company, Billy.”

“You have me,” he countered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes told me he was almost hurt.

I sighed, looking down as I folded a shirt. “Billy, I’m not going over this again with you—”

“I don’t get how you can love someone who you never see, that blows my fucking mind, Bo—”

I looked back up at him and threw the shirt down into the pile frustratedly. I didn’t want to tell him that I was going to sit John down and talk about the future because the distance was really hurting our relationship and it’s already caused so many problems. I need to figure out what we’re doing moving forward because honestly, it just feels like we’re wasting each other’s time. Billy couldn’t know that yet, though. “Please don’t make me get into this with you again. I hate fighting with you, please don’t make me.”

He put one of his hands on his forehead in exasperation while his other elbow held him up. “I just can’t believe you’re cheating on me,” he said with humor underlying the fake sadness in his tone.

I slapped his leg and he began to pout, which finally made me smile. “Nah, not cheating, leading you on.”

“You know, my heart’s breaking as we keep talking. Only a kiss would make me feel better.” He puckered his lips mockingly and closed his eyes like a child. I grabbed one of the stuffed teddy bears close to me at the end of my bed and whipped it at his head. When it fell, he broke into a grin and lurched forward, grabbed my hand, and pulled me onto him so I was straddling him.

“Billy—” I protested.

“Hey,” he interrupted, sitting up so we were face to face. “I don’t get to get drunk or high with my girl at a party this weekend, don’t rob me of this.”

“Don’t rob you of what?”

“You, babe,” he flirted with a smirk.

Our banter was always far more enjoyable than I’d ever admitted and I smiled appreciatively at that thought for just a moment.

“Billy, dearest, I really need to leave. It’s a long ass drive and I wanna get there before the sun goes down.”

He let out a groan and fell back down on my pillow, pouting again. “Fine, leave me. I see how it is.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to drive me up there, so I gotta leave you.”

He nodded in agreement and looked up at me, “Yeah, no offense or anything but I hate your boyfriend.”

I cupped his cheeks with a smile and kissed his forehead lightly. “Don’t have too much fun without me, my love.”

He replaced the pout on his face with a smirk quickly. “Never.” I rolled over onto the bed and stood up, Billy following my actions until he towered over me. He continued, “And don’t do anything I would do.”

“That’s some good advice, but I think you know exactly what I’m gonna do based on my choice of clothing.”

We both looked at the suitcase and lacy things that lay inside it. Billy threw his head back and closed his eyes—I think he was picturing what I looked like in them. “Sweet motherfucking Jesus, I would kill to be him tonight.”

“I’m sure you would,” I chuckled. “Now go before my mum busts in and asks why I’m cheating on John with you.”

“Please,” the blonde scoffed. “Your mum loves me.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Billy swung one of his legs out the window before looking back to me. He lightly planted a kiss on my fingers like he did the first time I met him. “Tell John that your other lover says hello.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to.”

He flashed me a toothy smile and laid another kiss on my hand, slipping out of the window expertly. I watched him jump down off the roof outside the window and strut back to his blue Camaro. He turned back, knowing I was still looking, and gave me a wink before climbing in. Once he drove away, I went back to packing after shoving Billy out of my mind.

When I was finished, I trudged down the stairs with my heavy suitcase and placed it on the ground in front of the front entrance. “Mum?!” I called.

She appeared from the kitchen and embraced me tightly then kissed both of my cheeks. Her teary eyes made me sad but I also thought she was being a bit ridiculous. She hated when I would be away for long periods of time—I think it has something to do with my dad leaving all those years ago. Abandonment issues and all that jazz.

“Have fun, Bernadette, please be safe driving,” she cried.

“I will, Mum, love you.” I kissed her cheek and she gave me one last hug before I grabbed all of my stuff and headed to my car. I threw in one of my assorted rock tapes and was off to Illinois.

The ride was long as fuck—longer than I expected because of traffic—and it was around 10:00 pm when I finally arrived. My Impala quieted its roars when I turned the key in the ignition to ‘off’. I reached into the passenger seat and grabbed the Chicago Bears sweatshirt John gave me a while ago that I planned on sleeping in if things were to go as planned.

I rang the doorbell and heard some movement, then I heard someone bound down the stairs. The door opened to reveal the topless brunette. I dragged my eyes from his torso to his face with difficulty and noticed he had a weird expression.

“Hi!” I greeted with a smile.

“Oh my God, Bo, what are you doing here?” He asked, voice a little wavy.

I paused. “You don’t sound pleased to see me,” I observed, half joking.

He laughed but there was something off about it that I couldn’t pin. “Of course I’m glad to see you. What brings you here?”

I shook my head at his idiocy, “You, idiot.”

I went up onto my tippy toes and captured his lips in a nostalgic kiss. It wasn’t quite as loving before, and I couldn’t help but notice that when I went to breathe, I caught a whiff of perfume. It was familiar, but certainly not mine.

My face crinkled and I pulled away, taking a step back from him. “Why do you smell like perfume, John?”

“Bo,” he started with panic on his face. That was the emotion that I couldn’t pin earlier. Panic. “This sounds lame, but I really can explain that.”

“John?” A familiar voice called from inside the house. My eyebrows narrowed as my blonde old best friend, Ruby Jones, came into view, wearing nothing but a men’s Black Sabbath t-shirt that barely covered anything.

Of course, I’d seen the shirt before, just not on her.

“Bo,” John addressed again, seeing my face turn bright red.

“Shut the fuck up, John. You two go have fun—”

“No, please, Bo, listen to me—”

I turned back around to look at the happy couple standing in the doorway. “NO!” I screamed. “You listen to me!! Take this stupid fucking sweatshirt that you gave me: I don’t want or need it anymore. Do not talk to me again.” I refused to cry, so I shifted the feeling into anger while shoving the sweatshirt into his cheating arms.

“Bo, please don’t, I really do still love you. I—I got lonely because you had to leave and Ruby was just here—”

“And so you decided that fucking her was the right way to go?!!” I yelled back, not caring at all who heard. “No!! No, fuck you, John Davis.” He went to speak but I cut him off again. “Don’t try to pin it on me and don’t you dare try and excuse your actions. You’re complete bullshit, and I never want to see your face again. Have a shitty life without me.”

He started to talk, but I tuned him out quickly. As soon as I turned away from him and began to descend the front steps, the angry tears fell from my eyes. I heard a door shut and figured they went back into the Davis home, defeated. John knows I would never ever forgive him for something like that and he knows I’d never take him back now.

I threw myself back into the Impala and the engine roared back to life once I turned it on. I hit the gas so hard, the tires screeched against the pavement and I was thrown back against the seat. I stopped angry-crying about five minutes into my trek back to Indiana, and I didn’t once stop for food or rest even though I definitely should have. I wasn’t tired and I wasn’t hungry, I was simply numb. Or maybe “shocked” would be the better word. He preached about being loyal yet here we are. At least it was quick like ripping off a bandaid.

I kept on the Turnpike and it was about 2 am when I reached a town close to Hawkins called Bloomington. The Impala’s gas light turned on and luckily there was a rest stop in a mile. I safely got to one of the gas pumps and filled the tank until it was full. Then I pulled the ticket out of the pump and lumbered over to the station across the lot. I paid for the gas hastily while the dude at the desk gave me a weird look for getting gas at 2 am.

I ignored him and walked back out of the station in a daze. So much of a daze that I didn’t see the car that turned a reckless, sharp right on my left. And the last thing I saw before unconsciousness took me was bright headlights.


	31. dazed & confused.

I was blinded by a fluorescent light when I tried to open my eyes again. I groaned and heard shuffling next to me while I tried to regulate my eyes and adjust them to the terrible luminescence. There was a beeping noise that sounded like an EKG and I swore I heard my mother’s voice somewhere.

“Bernadette?” Another, less familiar female voice called. “Can you hear me? Bernadette Hughes?”

“Bo,” I croaked out, “Name’s Bo.”

“That’s her nickname,” A male voice informed the woman, who I assumed to be a nurse. John.

My eyes shot open at the sound of his cheating ass and I searched the room until he was centered in my view. “Get out,” my voice commanded back scratchily.

“Bo—” he began.

“OUT, JOHN!!!” I screamed and the nurses rushed him out of the room. I figured playing crazy patient would do the trick. My mother came to my side and gripped my hand. I lowered my tone. “Hi, Mum.”

“I told you he was no good, Bernadette.”

“Not really the time for an ‘I told you so’, Mum,” I groaned.

She wiped a small tear from underneath her eye. “I apologize, dear. I hope you’re feeling better. How much does it hurt?”

‘Emotionally or physically?’ I thought.

“My chest is killing me and so is my whole left side,” I replied—out loud, this time.

“I’ll go ask the doctors what’s wrong,” she told me, nodding at my response. I nodded back and watched her leave the room. John entered not two seconds later and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I mocked him.

“I followed you from Chicago because I want you,” he answered.

I let out a laugh in spite of him. “I don’t really give a single fuck what you want, Davis. Not everything’s about you.” He looked at the ground angrily. “That’s all I’m going to say to you.”

His eyes snapped back to mine. “Is there anyone you do want to speak to, then? There’s a phone next to you and I’m not leaving.”

I glanced to my right and saw the landline on the bedside table. “Where am I?”

“I think the place is called Monroe Primary Care?”

“What town, John?” I asked, irritated.

“Bloomington, Indiana. And you’re in room 132.”

“Urgent care?” I asked. He nodded and I waved him over to my right side and had him ring a familiar number on the dial for me. The phone rang for a few seconds before it was picked up.

“Hello?” A young girl’s voice answered, completely uninterested.

“Max?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“It’s Bo.”

Her voice became much more friendly and I could pretty much hear her smile through the phone. “Oh, hi, Bo. I’ll go get Billy, gimme one sec.”

The phone was set down and there was some yelling in the background, then I clearly heard Max tell him it was me on the line, and Billy stopped arguing. The phone moved again and I heard his gruff voice from the other end. “Hey, babygirl.”

“You should be nicer to her,” I remarked.

I could almost hear his eyes roll. “How’s the boyfriend?” He gasped and changed his voice to sound like a girl. “You gotta give me all the deets about the sex,” he joked.

“Actually, I’m in the hospital right now, Billy.” John gave me a look when I said his name but I flipped him off and he didn’t say anything.

“The FUCK do you mean you’re in a hospital?! Where?!”

“Monroe Primary Care in Bloomington. I think it’s like twenty minutes away,” I suggested.

“Be there in ten.”

And the line went dead. I grinned brightly as I put the phone back on the stand. John looked confused.

“Why would you call him of all people?”

I smirked at his words. “Because he’s probably the one person that could get you to leave this place. And I really hope you know I mean physically.”

“Oh,” John scoffed. “So he’s your attack dog now?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fuck off, John, at least I’m choosing his presence.”

~~~

I wasn’t counting or anything, but Billy Hargrove ran into my room twelve minutes after he hung up the phone. “You’re two minutes late.”

“Y’know what, Hughes?” He fake-challenged with a smile. Billy approached my bed and kissed my forehead lightly. “Are you okay?”

“My mum’s asking now. But, unofficially, I have pain coursing up and down my left side, my chest cavity is killing me, and I have one whore of a headache.”

“What the hell happened? Why aren’t you in Chicago?” He asked quickly, eyebrows scrunched together angrily. He blindly grabbed a chair from behind him and scooted it close to my bed, still holding my hand in his, and still not acknowledging John’s presence.

“I don’t even know. I was so tired from driving to Illinois and back that I forgot to look both ways before going back to my car from a gas station.”

“Is the person who did it here?”

“No, it was a hit and run: they drove off.”

Billy closed his eyes and clenched that beautiful jaw of his so tightly I thought his teeth were going to crumble. His nose flared and the grip on my hand tightened until I moved my left hand onto his and rubbed it lightly. “Good thing they’re not here,” he forced out, “I think I might’ve done something I’d regret.”

I blushed at his protectiveness. John never said anything like that while we were together. I smiled up at the handsome boy next to me involuntarily, which further infuriated my ex-boyfriend who—for some reason—was still in the room with us.

“OKAY!” John snapped finally. “You’re telling me you never fucking cheated with this guy?!”

“Um, no. And it might just be my bias, but I don’t think you have the fucking grounds to talk to me about cheating because I, unlike some people, stay loyal to significant others. I know that must be a foreign concept to you,” I fired back at him maliciously.

And I swear to God, Billy’s eyes changed a different color when he stood up. “You...cheated on her?”

I decided to poke the bear. “Damn near walked in on him fucking one of my best friends actually.”

Billy continued to advance on John with his threatening fists clenched together while John tried not to look like he was about to shit his pants—ultimately failing. John was taller than Billy, standing at just over six feet tall, but under the pressure of Billy’s threats, he was getting smaller by the second.

“You cheated on her?” Billy repeated, his voice getting less and less calm by the second.

“Listen, man, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but Bo’s my girlfriend, not yours—”

Billy landed a punch straight to John’s cheekbone, sending John straight to the ground. He quickly got up after shaking his head and went to go hit Billy, but Billy saw it coming from a mile away and caught his wrist. Billy threw John down on the tile and swung right and left at the brunette under him. At first, I enjoyed watching John get his ass handed to him, but then I realized that—like me—when Billy fought, he fought with blind rage. That meant he actually couldn’t stop unless made to.

“Billy!!” I yelled, hoping to get his attention. Nada.

“BILLY HARGROVE!!” I screamed louder, which got him to look at me for a minute. “He’s not worth the murder charge!!”

His eyes changed back to blue and he took a defeated breath while getting up off of John and sitting back down next to me. “Sorry,” he whispered, moving some hair out of my face gently—completely switching tones.

“You don’t have to apologize, babe. Let me see your hands.”

I’d done this countless times before when Billy got into fights and bloodied himself up. His knuckles were cracked and there was a bit of blood on them—I didn’t think it was his, though. I kissed the top of them much like how he would kiss my hands and he silently chuckled at my actions. John was not a priority right now, even though he thought I cared that he just got his ass whooped.

To clear the record, I didn’t actually care that he got his ass whooped. He should be grateful I didn’t cheer Billy on.

“Bo!!” He yelled exasperatedly at me. “How the hell are you friends with that...that...psychopath?!!”

I gripped Billy’s hands tensely to keep him from killing John.

“My question, Davis, is how could I ever date you: a cheating, lying son of a bitch who also is such a pussy he can’t win a fight?”

John just stood there with his mouth hung open in disbelief. I turned back to Billy who was visibly upset at John’s stab at him. “You good?”

He nodded silently and I made room for him on the small hospital bed. He stretched out next to me and I cuddled into his muscular chest and strong arms. He smelled so good—his cologne and natural musk invaded my nose peacefully. I quickly fell asleep—not only because I was physically exhausted, but also because I found such comfort in the boy next to me despite everything else going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello loves, i know i've been absent for a while so i hope you enjoy these two chapters!! i also hope to continue working towards more weekly updates!! xo


	32. sorry to interrupt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall...i need jesus

Since the doctor suggested that I rehab my leg before returning to basketball, I’d been going on runs every day for the past week. Normally, I wouldn’t do this since I actually hated distance running (sprints were much more my style particularly because I was short and fast, a natural sprinter). But I figured I should help my leg out by running because I was looking forward to getting back on that court more than anything else.

“Shawn!!” I yelled from the doorway, putting my sneakers on.

“What?!” My brother yelled back presumably from his room upstairs.

“I’m going for a run!!”

“Ok? Why do I care?!”

I paused tying my shoes and rolled my eyes. “Just thought I’d let you know!!”

“Bye!”

“Bitch,” I muttered, grabbing my Walkman from where it lay next to me. I put the orange headphones over my ears and clicked ‘Play’, and a second later, AC/DC started blasting from the speakers.

It was a gloomy Saturday today, with a blanket of clouds blocking the sun from making the November air just a little bit warmer. The chill in the air actually made the run a bit more enjoyable since I would be able to work up a sweat without dying of heatstroke. My feet pounded the pavement and I tried my best to keep my breathing steady—in through the nose and out through the mouth.

I was jogging my normal route, “Shoot to Thrill” infecting my ears, when I looked up at one of the sidestreet signs coming up and saw that one of them was Old Cherry Road. I glanced down the road and figured “Hey, why the hell not?”, altering my course to pay a visit to a dear friend.

The Hargrove-Mayfield household was almost all the way down the street but I reached it quicker than I thought I would. The blue Camaro with white racing stripes was stationary in the driveway and I smirked, slowing down to a walking pace. I didn’t see Neil’s car, but there was a smaller one parked out in front of their mailbox—grey and a bit rusty. It was actually ugly in comparison to the muscle car that was just a few feet away.

I jogged up the steps and went to go knock, but knew if Neil wasn’t home then there was really no need, so I turned the doorknob and let myself in. It wasn’t like Billy hadn’t ever done that to me before—for Christ’s sake, he comes in through my window unannounced.

No one was in the front part of the house from what I could see, so I figured Billy was in his bedroom. I passed the bench press that stood obnoxiously in the living room with an eye-roll. Curious, however, I went back to it for a moment and tried to lift the bar that had two weights on either end. It didn’t budge at all.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, releasing my grip from the bar, visibly impressed with how much Billy could lift.

My breathing was still uneven and I was a bit dehydrated, so I went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, which I downed in like three seconds. My music was still blasting over my Walkman when I decided to go see my friend. I noticed Max’s door was open and since I didn’t see her, I concluded that she wasn’t home. Another few feet and I opened Billy’s door while pausing my music—not at all prepared for what I saw ahead of me.

My eyes met his gorgeous blue ones immediately and I was so glad I didn’t bring the glass with me because I know it would’ve dropped. Heavy metal blared from the stereo in the corner of the room, like always, but that wasn’t the only sin in the room.

There Billy Hargrove was, in all his glory, screwing a bleach-blonde girl underneath him.

I couldn’t move at all. Nothing could have prepared me for this. I don’t even know what I expected him to be doing when I walked in but it sure wasn’t this. Our eyes were glued to each other and I wanted to look away so bad but I couldn’t. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to leave the room but I was frozen. Even my breathing slowed down as I inaudibly gasped, sending me into a bit of a panic.

The girl didn’t notice my presence I think partly because of the music booming from the speakers and partly because she was in what looked like a state of euphoria. The sounds escaping her mouth told me she was nearly done, but they were probably much more intense from what I could hear considering her face was down against the mattress as Billy took her from behind.

Billy was facing me, his mouth wide open—probably as shocked as me—but kept his pace. His magnificently carved chest heaved up and down while his eyes burned into me and I pretty much knew what he was thinking. He was picturing me as the girl under him. His brows furrowed and his breathing became more erratic, with small, guttural groans escaping from his pink lips—still holding complete and total eye contact with me. I couldn’t hear anything but him as the music and other girl’s screams faded away, and my breathing became quicker like his.

I couldn’t explain it, but it was almost as if we had this...connection? I don’t know if that’s the right word for it, but it was like since our eyes were locked, my body reacted the way he did. And since he was on the edge, my breathing was uneven as well.

I actually felt nervous for once in my life: I was nervous that the girl would look up, I was nervous that Billy would point out my presence, I was nervous about what the hell would happen after.

The girl under him was clearly enjoying herself, and her orgasm hit her like a bus, but I barely even noticed. Billy was right behind her, his face contorting in pleasure, more and more absolutely pornographic sounds leaving his mouth.

“Oh, my God,” he groaned slowly, each word followed by a pant. His movements came to an abrupt halt and his whole body shuddered while he still held eye contact with me. “Bo, oh my God,” he moaned loudly as his orgasm ripped through him and it was finally over.

That was enough for me and once he was done, I miraculously was able to move again so I turned and slowly crept back out into the hallway, closing his door behind me quietly. I stared at the ground for a moment, processing what I’d just witnessed: possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen. Every time I blinked I could see his face and the noises never left my ears.

I walked back to the living room, sitting down on the couch after refilling another glass of water to seriously debate suicide. One of my hands covered my mouth in shock as I just kept replaying what I saw over and over again, torturing myself.

This deep cavity of just pure anger was slowly forming in the depths of my abdomen and my brows were knit together at the feeling. There was something off about this feeling but for the life of me, I couldn’t pin what it was. It didn’t feel like true anger—when I’m really pissed off, my face turns red, but I didn’t feel any heat in my cheeks at all. And I wasn’t “angry” at Billy either, it was like I was mad at the bitch underneath him for being there when I’m the one who—

Oh shit.

My hand found my forehead and my eyes widened in exasperation.

Was I...jealous?

No. No, of course not. I don’t get jealous. I’ve never been jealous in my life—actually that’s a lie, as a kid, I got jealous of my friends who had stable families. This was different, though. This wasn’t about having a dad. This was about relationships and I sure as hell don’t get jealous over relationships—I wasn’t even jealous when I found out that Ruby was sleeping with John.

Oh, my God. I’m fucking jealous. I’m jealous of another girl. Because of a guy.

Everything I stood for just went down the fucking drain. That debate over suicide or not sprang back into my mind.

‘Kill yourself, it’s the only fucking option at this point,’ my deep-rooted depression suggested. ‘You’re jealous and now World War III is on its way.’

I couldn’t even fucking believe it. Maybe I’m coming off as a bit dramatic, but I have never envied another girl because of their relationship with a guy. Because, 10 times out of 10, I’ve already bagged that guy so it’s kind of a been-there-done-that situation. Except this was the one time that I haven’t been there or done that. I didn’t even know this girl, but I fucking hated her for it already.

With that last thought, I heard footsteps from down the hall, so I quickly hit play on my Walkman and grabbed a magazine next to me, flipping to a random page. I was fake-reading about Ronald Reagan’s landslide election win when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I tore my eyes away from the page and moved my headphones off of my head, appearing uninterested despite the burning hatred bubbling in my chest.

“Who the hell are you?” The bleach-blonde bitch asked in one of the most annoying voices I’d ever heard. She had greenish-blue eyes and crimped hair and was much taller than me with her long, skinny legs. She was the epitome of what I pictured Billy’s type to be. She wasn’t stunningly pretty, but she was generally pleasing to the eye, so at least Billy’s standards hadn’t dropped too low.

I raised one eyebrow at her tone and answered with boredom lacing each word. “Bo Hughes, and who are you?”

Her posture changed from cocky to almost timid at the mention of my name—it wasn’t a surprise to me that she feared me, a lot of people did. Which is just how I liked it. “Oh, um,” she stammered. “Stacy Green.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Stacy,” I replied sarcastically, every muscle in my body screaming at me to beat her ass. Against my better judgment, I walked past her, scanning her up and down (quite obviously) and went back into the kitchen. I heard her scoff at my actions and I smirked.

“Jesus Christ, I thought Carol was joking when she said you were the biggest bitch she’d ever met.”

“Oh, honey,” I taunted, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Bo,” Billy greeted from the hallway before Stacy could retort. My mind immediately flashed back to the way he fucking moaned my name just minutes before and I had a rough time swallowing (that’s what she said). Our eyes met momentarily before I ripped mine away from his so it didn’t look painfully obvious to Barbie over here. “What are you doing here?” He asked hesitantly.

“Just, uh, popped by to say hi. Didn’t know you had company,” I informed him, taking a sip from my water glass.

“Well, he does. So…” Barbie butted-in.

“So what?” I asked her sarcastically, full well knowing what she meant but deciding to fuck with her anyways.

“So you interrupted us?” She replied confusedly. “Leave.”

I choked on my water and looked at her in disbelief. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Setting down my water glass on the counter and shooting Billy a quick “I’m-gonna-fucking-kill-her” glance, I turned to the blonde who stood just a few yards away. She saw my facial expression and her confident facade wavered for a moment before she attempted to hold her stance. I advanced on her and invaded her personal space until her face was mere centimeters from mine. “When Carol was talking shit about me, did she mention how I pounded her face into the pavement? How that double black-eye was from me? Did she ever bring that up?”

Her intake of breath was audible and I smirked, continuing. “Plus, you guys are done now, so, no, I won’t be leaving.”

“Me and Billy are going to the party tonight anyway, so neither am I,” she declared, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Uh,” Billy objected, a hand up to signal his skepticism. “I was actually gonna go with Bo.” The girl’s smug face immediately dropped and she looked hurt, clearly not understanding that what she and Billy just did was a one-time thing kind of deal. “Sorry, Tracy.”

“It’s Stacy,” she pouted, appearing smaller by the second.

“Right, yeah, I’ll call you later,” Billy added dismissively, goading her to leave as well. Barbie looked offended that he would take my side, but I figured my threatening words were effective enough when she walked out the door without another word.

Fuck, I thought. Now I gotta deal with this bullshit.

“Are we really going to that party?” I asked, laughing a little.

My blonde best friend broke out into a smile. “I was really just trying to get her to leave,” he admitted, surprisingly sheepish about it.

“I know, babe,” I replied with a joking tone, meeting his eyes. Even though we were a good distance from each other, the walls felt like they were slowly squeezing us closer and closer together, the pressure and legitimacy of the problem we face now hitting us full-force. I was the first to break eye contact before refilling my glass for the 7000th time, trying to play this whole thing cool.

“I mean...unless you wanna go?” There was a small bit of hope in his voice that made my lips curl into the slightest smile.

“Y’know it kinda sounds like you’re asking me to be your date to a party, there, Hargrove,” I teased, watching the way his cheeks slightly blushed.

He took a few steps towards me so we were both leaning against the counter, an arm’s length away. “So what if I am?”

“Then I would say ‘yes’ because you’re being a gentleman about it.” He grinned brightly and nodded before the tension consumed the room again. “I’ll go on one condition and one condition only.”

“And what’s that, princess?”

“You need to take a nice, long shower ‘cause I’m not showing up anywhere with a guy that smells like another girl,” I chuckled pointing in the direction of the bathroom.

He inched closer, confidence radiating off of him in waves once again. “We’re really not gonna talk about it, are we?”

“Whatever do you mean?” I played dumb, cocking my head to the side with false confusion painted on my face.

He shook his head in disbelief, a light smile playing on his perfect lips before bringing his hand up to brush a stray hair behind my ear. “You’re fuckin’ adorable when you’re jealous, babe.”

I really hoped he hadn’t noticed the way my cheeks heated up just the slightest bit when he called me out, but knowing him, he saw it anyways. “Who said I’m jealous?”

Billy didn’t reply, he simply gave me a wink before turning and leaving the room, presumably to go take that shower.

I was losing my cool: he saw right through me. Asshole knew exactly what he was doing and he knew I couldn’t convince him otherwise.

Damn him.


	33. fine dining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to upload! hope you enjoy!

Billy helped me out of his car and I stumbled into the diner. He grabbed my arms to keep me from falling down and causing a scene, pulling me close.

“What’s wrong?” I slurred, my eyes droopy.

“Baby girl, you are completely plastered, please let me do the talking and you just try not to fall down,” he instructed slowly and carefully, making sure my intoxicated ass heard every word.

“Okay,” I said, sliding into the nearest booth after he did. “Okay, okay, okay,” I repeated in a sing-song-like tone. Billy chuckled at my childishness and I hit his arm lightly for making fun of me.

“Good evening, my name is Diane. May I start you two off with a beverage?”

“A little ditty ‘bout Jack and Dianeee,” I sang in a hushed tone, moving my head from side to side. “Two American kids growin’ up in the heartland—”

“Anyways,” Billy interrupted, “Uh, I’ll have a Coke and she’ll have a chocolate milkshake—”

“Milkshake?!” I piped up, beaming at Billy. He laughed at me and noticed that the waitress didn’t laugh, but was rather suspicious.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am, she just got out of a root canal and they gave her laughing gas and it hasn’t worn off yet,” he lied. The woman’s face turned into one of sympathy, and Billy was proud that he was able to pull that out of his ass that quickly.

“Feel better soon, hun. Your boyfriend seems to be taking good care of you so far,” she said, patting me on the back. My eyebrows knitted together and I went to object and say that Billy and I weren’t dating but he slung his arm around my shoulder, signaling to me that it would be best to play it off that way. I guess I don’t lose all of my tricks when I’m shitfaced.

Diane laid the menus down on the table and walked towards the kitchen to give the chef our orders. Billy turned to me with an amused look once he saw she was a sufficient distance away.

“You’re a fucking clown when you’re drunk,” he noted.

“Clownery is my favorite subject,” I replied with my chin held up, cringing at the words when they came out. “Wait a minute, that wasn’t right. I mean, uhm, I enjoy clownery.”

At this point, Billy’s face was red from laughing so hard as he looked down at me underneath his arm. I stared up at him in mock sadness for laughing at me but that quickly turned into a look of pure admiration.

“What?” He asked, finally calming down.

“Nothin’,” I mumbled.

“No, seriously, what?”

“Your eyes look really pretty right now, I just got lost in ‘em,” I joked. He didn’t laugh, only stared at me longer, waiting for what I really wanted to say. “Billy, honestly, I was just thinking that I think you’re really pretty and I’m glad to have you in my life ‘cause I get to stare at you all the time.”

This time he laughed. “Okay, maybe not the last part, but I do think you’re very pretty. Oh! But don’t think I don’t enjoy having you in my life, ‘cause I do, you’re a great person to talk to, and as hard-headed as you may be, you are actually a good listener, and...I don’t know what I was even just saying, goddammit.”

“It’s okay, doll, I adore you, too,” he replied with that dazzling smile, lightly planting a kiss on my forehead that made me close my eyes.

“Coke for the gentleman and a chocolate milkshake for the lady,” Diane said, as she placed our drinks on the table abruptly.

“Thank you,” Billy and I said in stereo. I giggled at him and he shot me a smile again. I leaned on my left elbow, jaw set in my hand, just slightly awed by the man next to me for a moment.

“What would y’all like to have to eat tonight?”

Him.

I zoned back in, still looking at Billy to see what he wanted to order and his mouth was practically on the table. His eyes were glued to mine as he searched for some kind of reasoning as to what I’d just uttered. The waitress was silent as well, her lips slightly parted too.

“Oh, no,” I said, putting my head on the table, “I apologize, that was out of line.”

Billy chuckled nervously, “I’m not hungry but this lovely lady right here will have a cheeseburger and fries.”

It took a few moments for Diane to get her bearings after my comment, so she shook her head and wrote down the order. “Anything on the burger?”

“Pickles and mustard. There’s ketchup here,” Billy answered for me. I secretly loved that he knew me so well. I heard the woman’s footsteps retreat away, but I kept my head on the table in shame.

“I can’t fucking believe I said that,” I groaned.

“It’s okay, babe, I feel the same,” Billy joked. I took my head up from off the slightly grimy table and looked into his blue eyes.

“No, Billy, that was fucking humiliating.”

“It was fucking hilarious is what it was.”

“I crave death right now, I’m so embarrassed—”

“Baby, it’s not that bad—”

“It is, though! She probably thinks we’re some kind of freaky, kinky couple—”

“Aren’t we?” He flirted.

“Billy!” I protested and he looked at me expectantly, ready for some form of a comeback. “If I wasn’t drunk off my ass right now, I would totally fire something right back at you, but I’m really wasted so I get a pass.”

“Mhm,” he mused as I elbowed him playfully.

My food came quickly, with Diane dropping it off at lightning speed, then retreating back to the kitchen to avoid the awkwardness. I immediately took one of the golden, crunchy fries, and dipped it into my milkshake and threw it into my mouth. I sighed at the taste, it possibly being my favorite food combo of all time.

“What the actual fuck are you doing with those fries?” Billy asked with a bewildered look on his face like I’d just grown another head.

“Oh come on, King Billy of California has never had a fry dipped in a chocolate milkshake? I call bullshit,” I said, popping another chocolatey fry into my mouth.

His face cringed at the sight of me savoring my weird food choice. “Here,” I said, passing him one. He shook his head no and I held it closer to his face. He eventually let up and opened his mouth, eyes closed as if that would make a bad taste go away. It tasted incredible, but his logic was just idiotic, even drunk me was confused.

After he swallowed, his eyebrows raised and his eyes opened again. “I stand corrected.”

“You bet your ass, you do.”

“Remind me not to doubt you ever again.”

I nodded passing him another while eating more of my own. Billy told me he didn’t want to eat all of my fries, so he ate my burger instead. I didn’t object, I really just ordered the meal for the fries because they didn’t just have an order of fries. Sue me.

I glanced over to behind the counter where there were a few waitresses serving drinks to the people sitting there. They were all blonde, which I found a little creepy but, hey, this is Indiana so I don’t ever really know what to expect. And they were all really, I mean really pretty. Like if I was a guy, I’d be drooling over them kind-of-thing. All three of them were staring over our way, specifically at Billy.

They all looked away once I noticed this, and I nudged Billy—who was still entranced by my cheeseburger—with my elbow.

“The entire wait staff aka The Blondie Bunch is checking you out right now,” I informed. He looked over to the same counter and winked at the waitresses. “You should go.”

“What?”

“Go get laid, I don’t want to be a cockblock.” He stayed quiet, analyzing if I was kidding or not. “I’m being completely serious, Billy, go have fun with them, I’ll be fine.”

“You aren’t jealous?”

“Listen, Casanova, I’m the one in the booth with you if you know what I mean. They’re the jealous ones. But honestly, if you want to go, then go, like I’m actually encouraging you to.”

“Why?”

“Because then I don’t have to deal with sex-deprived you.” He chuckled. “Nah, I’m just teasin’. For real though, I just thought you would appreciate my offer since most girls would get their panties in a twist, y’know?”

He nodded, “Well, kitten, you never have been like those girls, now have you?”

“No, Romeo, now go,” I said, getting up from my seat to let him out of the booth. I sat down after he left it and before he approached the girls, he turned back to me.

“Wait, how are you gettin’ home?”

“I’ll call Steve or something, I don’t know,” I replied, eating another fry.

He gave me a look. “Maybe I shouldn’t go, then.”

“Billy. Seriously? I’ll be fine. I can walk home from here, it’s less than a mile and I know it by heart. I promise I’ll be fine.”

He took a breath and looked at the clock, then back to me. “Okay, but if you need me, call me.”

“Okay, I will. Now go, you dumb, horny bitch,” I said for the last time. He placed a $10 bill on the table and shook his head at my nickname. The clad-in-denim man strutted over to the counter to flirt with the waitresses with absolute ease—I rolled my eyes at this. None of my business, though. I’d just noticed the jukebox was playing quietly, so I rested my head on the back of the booth side and continued eating my fries while humming along to “Footloose” by Kenny Loggins.

Before I knew it, Billy was back at my side again, in the booth.

“Jesus Christ, that was fast.”

“I don’t want you walking alone at night—especially this drunk. I can hook up with them some other day, I got their numbers,” he said, extending his forearm to show me three neatly-written phone numbers and names next to them.

“How the fuck did I know one of their names was Lindsay?” Billy pursed his lips, holding back laughter. “But thanks for staying. Who knew you’re actually kind of a decent person?”

“Wait, wait, wait. Was this whole thing a test?”

“To your loyalty?—no, I don’t give a shit about who you sleep with, it’s not of my concern, I don’t own you. But to your common sensitivity?—yes. I can be an evil mastermind even when I’m drunk,” I said, eating my last fry.

“I admire your ways,” he replied, visibly a little upset that I was so indifferent about his sleeping partners.

I rolled my eyes and we got up to leave, allowing Diane to keep the change since she needed a big tip after I straight up made a sex joke in front of her. The girls behind the counter were damn near seething when Billy helped put my jacket back on and led me out of the diner, his arm around my shoulders. I laughed out loud when I noticed their anger, and Billy had to shush me because one of the girls looked like she was gonna hop the counter and try to whoop my ass.

“I’m sorry, do you have a problem with me?,” I spat, staring that blonde directly in the eye as Billy tried to get me out of the diner before we got arrested.

“Just get outta here, you drunk-ass bitch,” she replied, snickering.

“Listen up, Lindsay,” I said, cocking my head to the side threateningly. Her face dropped as I correctly guessed her name. “I may be a ‘drunk-ass bitch’ as you put it, but at least I’m not a booty call!” My sing-song voice mocked.

Her face heated up as the rest of the customers in the diner gave her a dirty look.

“Goodnight, everybody,” I finished, waving to the rest of the people in the diner. Billy tugged on my arm, laughing hysterically, and we went out to his car.

He pulled out a cigarette and I pulled out my lighter before he could. I lit it for him and he gave me a wink. “Thanks, doll.”

I wrapped my arms around his torso, underneath the denim jacket he wore, nuzzling into his chest as he took a drag from the cigarette. My intoxication wasn’t as terrible as it was before, thanks to the chocolate milkshake-covered fries, but I was still drunk enough to find comfort in him right then.

“Thanks for comin’ back, I really don’t feel like walking home.”

“You already said that,” he said in a bored tone.

“There’s no need for that kind of ‘tude, you whore,” I replied, laughing at my own joke.

“How come you’re allowed to call me a whore but I can’t call you a whore? That seems wrong.”

I took my head off of his chest, but I still kept my arms around him. “Because ‘whore’ isn’t nice, it’s objectifying. And you are the definition of a man-whore.”

“And you can objectify me?”

“Loverboy, you pretty much ask to be objectified by women.”

He paused, thinking on my statement as he took another drag. “A’ight, I’ll give you that.”

I laughed, fully pulling away from him and opened his car door to settle into the passenger seat. A few moments later, he extinguished the smoke with his shoe and sat next to me, starting the Camaro up. Billy recklessly pulled out of the diner parking lot and onto the long, empty road, taking my hand as he pushed the car, verging on 70 mph. I rolled down my window with my free hand, letting it out to catch the wind while I whooped at the thrill of speed.

“BILLY!” I yelled, noticing a deer that came quickly onto the road.

“Shit!” He yelled back, swerving to miss it. He didn’t see the ditch that the road dropped off into—the car heading straight towards it. He slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel but knew he wouldn’t be able to control the car in time, he grabbed both of my hands with his and I swear time slowed to a halt.

His eyes showed nothing but pure fear, as he quickly pulled me into his chest since I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. The blue hues in his irises made me feel almost at peace in such a chaotic moment, and I knew he was yelling something but I couldn’t hear him. I just took in the pure beauty of his features, silently hoping this wasn’t the last time I could see them.

He would be the last thing I saw before everything went black.


	34. breathe for me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> plz note this is from billy's perspective!! enjoy loves xo

Billy’s POV

“Sir…? Sir, can you hear me?”

A bright light blinded me and I pushed away from the person holding the flashlight. My vision kept coming and going as I tried to blink the black spots away. My head spun and I wasn’t able to stand up at all, which added to my frustration.

“Sir? Calm down, just breathe.”

My eyes clenched shut, as Bo’s voice echoed in my head.

Breathe, Billy. You’re with me, he isn’t here. You’re okay, just breathe, baby.

My breathing slowed for a second before my eyes snapped open to the woman standing a few feet from me. I glanced around, noticing where I was, finally: standing on the outskirts of a cornfield.

Bo.

“Where is she?”

“Sir—”

“Where is she?!!” I roared, running back towards the road, the woman in the EMT uniform following close behind. My car was being towed out of the ditch I swerved into—the only significant damage to that being the huge, me-sized hole in the front windshield. I looked closer and noticed Bo wasn’t in the passenger seat. I turned back to the woman, not seeing her anywhere.

“Where is she?!”

“She was out cold when we found her. She had a weak pulse, so we took her to the nearest hospital—”

“Is she gonna be okay?!” I yelled, running my hands through my hair. The woman didn’t answer. “Goddammit, is she okay?!!”

“We don’t know,” the EMT responder answered sadly.

My breathing became shallower and shallower with each breath I took and I could feel my throat closing. “Oh, fuck, not now. Please not now,” I begged to a higher power.

My head spun and I tried to shake away the dizziness, but it just made it worse. I fell back onto the ground, sitting up, trying to get my bearings.

Shit, what was it that she said to do?

I clenched my eyes shut again and pictured her face when she first helped me with these stupid fucking panic attacks. I concentrated on her mouth—God, that fucking mouth—and needed to hear what she said.

‘Find five things to see, Billy,’ her voice spoke softly. I opened my eyes and saw the concerned EMT lady, the yellowing grass, my bruised hands, my beloved car, and...Harrington?

I can’t do this in front of him, I thought, even though Bo said that if I try and ignore it, it gets worse. She hasn’t been wrong so far. Fuck.

“What the hell happened, Hargrove?” His voice rang out.

I rolled my eyes and got up from the ground with a bit of difficulty. My head still felt like it was too heavy to hold up, but I had to manage. I sized him up—even though he was taller—as I approached him.

“What the hell does it look like? Why are you here, of all people?”

“I called Bo to see if she’d gotten home because I wanted to talk to her, but her mom said she was still out, and since I knew she went home with you, I wanted to make sure you weren’t—”

“You really think that low of me?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“...That’s fair, but just so you know, I’d never do that—especially not to her of all people. I’m not that fucked up.”

“What happened?” He asked me—his calmness freaking me further out.

“Uh, we were driving back from the diner down the road and a deer jumped out and I swerved and drove into the ditch. I apparently went through the windshield and Bo...I don’t know what happened to her but it wasn’t good.”

“The other EMTs that took her away said her head hit the dashboard on impact and it almost killed her. It didn’t, but she’s still in critical condition ‘cause didn’t she get a concussion just a few weeks ago?”

My eyes widened at his words and my anxiety was pounding my head like a fucking hammer. A trillion thoughts about Bo raced through my head at a trillion miles an hour and I ran my hands over my face a few times to shake away the sad and depressing ones.

“Wait a minute,” Steve said, looking back at me skeptically, “If there was a deer on your side of the road, you technically would have been able to get out of the way and stay on the path of the road...How fucking fast were you going?”

“Why does that matter?” I yelled, getting defensive because it was as if he was trying to pin this whole thing on me.

It is my fault, though.

Yeah, I fuckin’ know that, so shut up.

“It matters because she’s on the literal verge of death and I want to know!” Harrington was all worked up, his chest heaving as he yelled back at me, the exasperation not hidden well on his face.

“I was going 70—”

He roughly grabbed the collar of my jean jacket. I didn’t fight him because I knew I deserved it. “SEVENTY FUCKING MILES AN HOUR?? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?”

Harrington threw me to the ground in disgust.

“Jesus H. motherfucking Christ, Hargrove, you really are the king of the phrase ‘It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt’.”

“At least I’m still King,” I said, evil in my eyes and spite in my words.

“Yeah? Well, I hope you have fun with that cause the supposed ‘Queen of Hawkins’ or whatever you call her? She’s dying because of you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go to the hospital to see my catatonic best friend.”

He began to walk away, and I set my head down on the ground beneath me. I knew he was right, and I needed to see her. So I swallowed my pride for a moment and caught up to Harrington.

“I know I’m a douchebag and I don’t deserve to be anything to her, but she actually kind of matters to me, believe it or not, and I know she matters to you too. This sounds fucking crazy, and I swear to all of everything if you tell anyone this that I will kill you, but I like her and I can’t imagine my life without her. I’m sure you can’t either, but I fucking need Bo and if she goes like this…” I paused, feeling that stupid throat-closing sensation before you need to cry. “I’m actually really sorry I endangered her like that and I give you full permission to murder me if she…”

Harrington gave me a sideways look as we walked towards his old, beat-up car, but he eventually nodded. Honestly, I couldn’t have ever imagined this day would ever come. I think he understood my sincerity and it took a lot out of me to share that much, so we just silently agreed to go to the hospital together. The car ride was nothing but awkward the whole way there: just the two of us, the radio, and the gut-wrenching feeling I haven’t felt since my mother passed.

“If it makes you feel any better—and I know this is lame to you or whatever, but I’m just doing this for Bo. If it makes you feel better, she told me you mean a lot to her even when she jokes around or you two argue or whatever happens—”

“Thanks,” I replied, not making eye contact. I didn’t need this bonding moment, I was already on the verge of tears and the sadness of that conversation just made me suicidal at that point.

“Wait, so, like, what are you guys? Dating? Friends?”

“Somewhere between friends and dating, I guess. I don’t date girls.”

“You date guys, then?”

I gave him a threatening look with an eyebrow raised, and he put up one of his hands in defense. “Sorry, uncalled for...but why not with Bo? She’s so different.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s fuckin’ incredible and I want her for more than what you think. She isn’t safe with me, though. She deserves someone caring and shit—someone who can y’know keep her safe and not break her heart. A good guy. I hate to say it, but someone like you.”

“Listen, I know you don’t like me and I know you hate the fact that I’m prying, but I just wanted to see what she likes so much about you. And I may love Bo to death, but platonic love. I mean she’s hot as hell itself, but I think she’d rather me be a friend than anything else.”

I took a moment to let his words seep into me. I nodded, realizing he was right. “What does she say about me?”

“If you tell her I told you this, I’ll—”

“Fuck me up, yeah, I know, just get to the good stuff, Harrington.”

He rolled his eyes and focused on driving. “She says she likes the thrill that you give her. Apparently, you’re very exciting to her. She loves your banter and the fact that you care about her more than you let off. She likes that you’re super tough on the outside, but actually, and I quote this one, ‘are really a teddy bear on the inside’.”

My cheeks flamed at that, knowing damn well she’s said that before. It wasn’t an embarrassment, just more of a “she’s right and she knows it but it still sucks” kind of thing.

Harrington continued, “Bo says she’s never bored with you and despite both of your problems, when you’re together, you’re the ‘distraction that makes her forget about the bad stuff’—more exact words. She really cares about you, man, and I really hope you don’t fuck it up because I’m the one that’s gonna be there to help her clean up the mess in the end.”

I didn’t reply and instead stared out the window. He was right, and I needed to listen to him. It sucked a lot, but she was so worth it.

A few minutes later, both of us burst into the hospital and ran to the front desk. “Bernadette Hughes?” I asked urgently. A doctor who looked to be just scrubbing out came over to us.

“Did you say ‘Bernadette Hughes’?”

“Yeah, why? Is she okay?”

“She just got out of surgery—she’s stable for now—”

I sighed, dropping my shoulders, feeling the whole world begin to rotate on its axis again. My head dropped backward, giving me the ability to breathe properly again.

“But there’s something you should know,” the doctor continued. My attention went back to him. “She showed signs of a recent concussion and we checked the hospital records to find that she’d been in another accident a few weeks ago. The concussion she got tonight was very severe and would be classified as life-threatening. But my guess is she hit the dashboard of the car like a freight train and her brain moved around a lot more. Since she had the other concussion that wasn’t fully healed, though, she’s now in a coma, and we have no idea when she’ll wake up—if she will, either.”

Tears sprung to my eyes and I had to turn away from the doctor. I heard Harrington thank the doctor for his sharing of information and I knew I should too, but I couldn’t focus on anything. The anxiety from earlier was coming back with a fury, like a tsunami, and I had to sit and suffer in it. I sat down, taking my head in my hands as it spun like a motherfucking record, making my vision go in and out. The tears now openly spilled from my eyes.

My father’s voice began to echo in my head.

‘Look at you, you fuckin’ faggot. Crying over some whore?! Be a fucking man!’

I just immersed myself in memories of Bo consoling me when I snuck into her room at night after a beating. She was like no one else, and she understood what it was like to have a dickbag of a father—she knew how it fucking felt. She knew how to calm me down and how to make me feel better. And I hate being soft—it makes me think of my dad. But she doesn’t judge me even when I’m soft, or when I’m trying extra hard to make her hate me so she doesn’t see through the fact that I’m actually lonely as shit.

She sees through it, of course.

All I know is that if there’s a God or some kind of Jesus-equivalent on this Earth, it’s her, and that’s a fact. And losing her? That’s not an option.


	35. my girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder: this is from billy's POV!! and thanks for reading this far i love you all!! xo

Billy's POV

“Those here for Bernadette Hughes?” A feminine voice rang out, pulling me away from the storm of thoughts I was immersed in. I immediately stood, Harrington next to me, and we followed the nurse down the hall and into a hospital room.

I heard the nurse speaking, but all of my attention was on the girl hooked up to the EKG machine a few feet away. The right side of her flawless face was covered in black and blue bruises and there was stitching near her temple along her hairline and up the upper right side of her head. It looked like her head had been split open. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful—like she always did when she slept: there was no worry lines or furrowed brows, she was relaxed.

Relaxed but near-dead. All because of me.

“Sir?”

“Hmm?” My attention was drawn away from Bo slightly.

“Do you have her parents’ contact information?”

FUCK.

“Uh, yeah, I got their house phone number, hold on,” I walked over to the table next to Bo. It had a pen and a small notepad on it, so I quickly scribbled down the Hughes household number with surprising difficulty and handed it to the nurse. She thanked me, but as soon as she left the room, my hands went back into my hair in exasperation.

“What’s wrong with you?” Harrington asked out of the blue.

“I'm going to die tonight.”

“Yeah, Shawn Hughes is gonna kill you,” Harrington replied sarcastically.

“Not funny, Harrington. He said if harm ever came to her at my hands—“

“But you didn’t purposefully do this, dude. He’ll understand that.”

I sighed at his naivety. “Yeah but she’s close to dying and it’s my fault. Don’t try to argue with me and say it isn’t because it is and you know it.”

“I agree with you—this is all your fault. Fuck you for it, actually. Suck it up and fucking sit down with your girl who’s damn near on her deathbed and talk to her. People in comas can hear the things that go on around them, so apologize to her and tell her everything you need to, because you might not get a second chance if she gives up.”

And with that, Harrington left the room to go sit in the lobby, waiting for Bo’s mom and brother to show up.

I grabbed the nearest chair and sat down in it, scooting as close as I could to the hospital bed while interlacing our fingers. My other hand gripped the other side of her hand and I held it to my forehead like I was ready to pray—which I pretty much was.

“I hope you can hear me, sweetheart, ‘cause I need you to stay with me. And you can quit playin’ around, I know you’re just pretending while the doctors are here, right, dollface?”

The heart monitor was deafening while I hopelessly expected her to open her eyes and smile at me and crack some stupid joke.

“I, uh, I think you know by now that I’m not really all that great at handling, y’know, like my feelings or whatever ‘cause I normally just get really drunk and high like you do...but I think you deserve more than that from me right now. I’m—I’m sorry, Bo. You need to hear that and I hope to God you do. I’m sorry for puttin’ you in danger and now you might be on your fuckin’ deathbed. Sorry for yelling at you when all you’re tryin’ to do is help me out. I’m sorry for being a part of your life ‘cause all I’ve done is hurt you.

“What I’m trying to say is, I really need you to hear me and know that I’m sorry for bein’ such a dick to you all the time, even if you don’t forgive me. I have so much stuff I gotta tell you, so much stuff I still wanna show you and do with you and to you,” I laughed half-heartedly and my words turned into whispers as my throat started closing.

“I don’t—I can’t—” I took a shaky breath in and out as my eyelids felt like there were weights on them. “No, please, fuck, make it stop—”

I got interrupted by the feeling of the world bending in ten different directions and my nausea set in. Tears slipped out of my eyes involuntarily while I tried to ground myself, but I couldn’t, it was just all too much. This girl might actually fucking die because of me and my dumbass actions. I glanced at her through my watery eyes and tried my hardest to recall what she would use to help me when I got anxiety attacks before.

5 things to see, her voice echoed in my head for the second time that day.

“Five things,” I whispered, exasperatedly. My eyes darted around the room. Bo. The IV in her arm. The heart monitor next to us. The TV on the wall in front of Bo. The bed she laid on.

Find 4 things to touch, babe.

Bo’s small, right hand. The hospital blanket. Her hospital admission band. The bed rail.

And 3 things to hear.

The news on the TV. The heart monitor beeping at a constant rate. Bo’s steady breathing in and out.

2 things to smell, Billy, almost there.

The typical hospital smell (kinda like old people scent). The cow shit stains on my kneecaps from when I was thrown out of my car in the accident.

1 thing to taste.

I kissed Bo’s hand gently, tasting a few of my tears along with her skin.

The room-spinning slowed dramatically, which I was eternally grateful for, but the stress was still ever-present. I admired the girl and silently thanked her for teaching me that method of calming down, and sort of thanked myself for actually listening instead of pretending to. I relaxed a bit, now that the worst of it was over and decided it would be best to just keep talking to Bo until I had nothing else to say—specifically apologizing to her until the end of time.

“Hey,” I whispered, “Thank you.” Another shaky breath. “You’ve done so much for me and I’ve done nothing for you, and for that, I’m so sorry, Bo. I know you hate when I apologize too much but I think this one is necessary since you actually might not be here to yell at me for apologizing so much anymore. None of this is okay, none of it has an excuse, none of it is forgivable. Your mum will hate me for the rest of my life. Your brother will—I’m pretty positive—kill me for this, regardless of if you wake up or not. Harrington, Wheeler, they’ll tell everyone at school about what I’ve done and everyone will hate me for killing you. Max will stab me if your brother doesn’t—you know she thinks of you as a sister? And my dad?” I laughed humorlessly.

“He hates you but he’ll hate me even more because your family will sue mine and it’s all my fault. All of this is my fault and it’s killing me, Bo. I feel physical fucking pain in my chest right now; it hurts to breathe, it feels like there are a few rocks in my stomach or something, and don’t even get me started on how much my actual heart hurts. I’ve had heartburn before but this is crazy.

“Just, uhm, Bo, I need you to know that I—” My throat closed quickly again and I turned to a whisper. “I can’t do this without you. This anxiety shit—it’s just gonna get worse and I can’t handle it. And my dad’s just gonna get worse. I need your help, Bo, please.” Tears started streaming down my face even though I fought them back for so long.

“Please don’t leave like my mom. Please just fight a little more, just wake up for me, please, Bo, I’m begging you. I need you to live so fucking bad, please hear me.” I couldn’t even get sound out at this point. “Please, Bo, stay with me. You’re all I have, please don’t go.” I gripped her hand so tightly I thought I might’ve cut off some circulation. “I love you," I sucked in a shaky breath, on the verge of sobbing, "Please don’t go.”

“Sir?”

My head whipped around to see a concerned-looking nurse standing in the doorway, staring at me breaking down in front of my girl. I didn’t even have the willpower to make an effort to conceal what I was feeling (aka what I always do), so I just kept crying. This girl’s life is in jeopardy and I’m not supposed to be soft about it? Fuck right off.

“Ms. Hughes’ family is here,” she responded in a soft tone, afraid to make me more upset.

I looked at the ceiling—knowing this was probably going to be the worst thing I’d ever have to explain to a parent. Which includes the time I had to look a girl’s father straight in the eye and tell him I took his daughter’s virginity (consentfully, of course) because somehow he found out. That was a rough day. However, I think this day outranks every other rough day I’ve had in almost a decade. Maybe even since my mom left.

Behind the nurse stood poor Ms. Hughes: puffy-eyed, holding a box of tissues—most likely complimentary of the hospital. She was still beautiful, but she appeared as though she aged years since the last time I saw her. This weight was crushing her. And next to her, with his arm around her shoulders, was Shawn Hughes, who looked like he was trying his absolute best in support of his mother to keep from breaking down.

I stood up, Bo’s hand still sandwiched between mine, and tears still steadily flowing out of my eyes. Their faces broke my heart and I had never truly been so sorry for anything in my entire life. Leanna hobbled over to me, staring at her unconscious daughter the entire time, then shifted her eyes to meet my watery ones. She took out a tissue, put the box down on the bed, and held it up to my face to wipe the tears away. My brows knitted in confusion—she should have been ridiculing and possibly yelling at me. But she decided to help me instead.

“Why?” I asked hoarsely.

She gave me a weak smile. “You’re a son to me, darling.”

I had to take my bottom lip between my teeth and look away so I wasn’t completely overcome with sobs, so I sat down and stared at the floor, nodding ever-so-slightly. Ms. Hughes embraced me in her loving arms and I closed my eyes, stinging from the constant influx of tears.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to her.

She pulled back from the embrace and wiped away some of my tears with her thumb. “I know, love, I forgive you.”

“Why? I did this—”

“She’s still here with us, correct?” Ms. Hughes interrupted politely. I nodded. “Well, we take what we can get, then. Celebrate small victories. She’s alive, as are you, and that’s all that matters right now. Let’s just be with her for now.”

I nodded once again and glanced over to Shawn as Ms. Hughes walked to the other side of the bed to further examine her comatose daughter. His face held in one of the most deadly glares I’d ever received, resulting in me standing up and heading his way towards the door. He put his arm out before I could pass him, though, and I hesitantly looked in his eye. The number of threats I’d received from this kid added to the fact that he could thoroughly and swiftly kick and/or kill my ass made me quite fearful in that moment if I’m honest.

His words from the first time we ever met echoed in my head. ‘You hurt her and you’re dead, you hear me?’

“You did this?” He asked lowly, already knowing the answer.

I looked away, guilt etched all over my features and all I could do was word vomit. “I’m sorry, Shawn. I can’t say it enough ‘cause it doesn’t change anything. I’ve never hated myself more for anything in my life, I want you to know that and I don’t expect you to forgive me or anything but just know that I love her so much and—”

He cut me off with a hug. Yeah, you heard me. A hug. I went silent, and it took about five seconds to process before I returned it.

“The doctors told me just before you crashed you jumped in front of her so you flew out of the window and she didn’t?” I nodded hesitantly. “They said it probably saved her life because if she flew out she would have gotten crushed by the car still going into the ditch. Thank you.”

We both pulled away from our unlikely hug and Shawn shook my hand and gave me a nod of approval. “I should be mad at you,” he said, “but you’re one of the best things that have happened to my sister and she adores you, so you can stick around. But if she dies?” His voice got very low, and he pulled me in so his mouth was threateningly near my ear, “If she dies, you die. If she flatlines or has a seizure or any of that shit, I will hunt you down like a fucking animal and I will hurt you. I don’t give a fuck about how she feels about you at that point. If she goes, you go.”

I swallowed nervously and nodded my head in understanding. He was 1000% serious and I knew it. Shawn flashed me a fake smile and walked over to his mother, who was now sitting next to Bo and talking to her. I took a breath for the first time in about a minute and a half and walked out of the hospital room to go to the vending machine.


	36. fiona's flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from billy's pov!! enjoy loves!! xo

Billy's POV

A week passed and there was still no news on Bo’s condition. The doctors were clear when they said that they had no idea when or how she was going to wake up, but the one thing I did know was that I had to be there when she did wake. I needed to see those big beautiful eyes open and I needed to see her with life in her again.

And so, every day, I went to the hospital as soon as school got out. I tried skipping school to stay with her that Monday, but my dad got a call from the school and I got an earful for that. It was worth it to be with her, but you can’t blame me when I say I don’t want to make it a habit. I initially tried to lie to Max about where I was going, but she threatened to tell Susan if I didn’t tell her the truth, but she retracted her threat once I caved. It was insane how well Max and Bo got along, and they both treated each other like sisters while teasing me—which was annoying at first, but I got used to it and made fun of them back.

I was currently on my way to a florist—I know, cheesy, but hear me out. Since I’m trying to do everything to possibly wake her up, why wouldn’t I get flowers—something high on the list of things she hates? Her waking up and yelling at me for wasting my money on something that’s gonna last her a few days max (something that she says has no purpose other than being a “death decoration”), that would be heaven-sent. I’d honestly die for her to yell at me right now.

I pulled into a small parking lot that surrounded “Fiona’s Flowers”, and braced myself for the middle-aged woman inside that probably had a sunhat on and gardening gloves.

I walked inside the building and was instantly hit with fancy aromas. It smelled really nice, I can’t lie, but I was pulled out of focus on the scent when I saw a woman who was—and I swear to God on this one—wearing a burgundy sunhat and green and white gardening gloves. You literally couldn’t make it up. She was also, as I suspected, middle-aged, and she had very kind features with short, blonde hair.

“Hi, hun, how can I help you?” She asked politely.

“Fiona?” She nodded. “Uh, I’m looking for some flowers.”

She looked around and back at me and then it hit me that that was a dumbass answer. “We have quite a few flowers here. Any particular kind you’re looking for?”

“I’m not really sure, I’ve never done this before,” I admitted to her. It was true. I know what a rose and a sunflower—and maybe a tulip—look like but that’s about it. Fiona gave me a sympathetic look and took off her gardening gloves.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” She asked me cheerfully, some reminiscence of youth behind her aging eyes.

“Oh, um, they’re for my girlfriend, Bo,” I replied hesitantly. That was a new sentence.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, dear. For an anniversary? Birthday?”

I looked at the ground, “No, she's,” I cleared my throat, “she’s actually in a coma at the moment.”

Fiona’s expression immediately dropped into one of utter pity. “I’m so sorry, dear, I hope the flowers help a bit.” I nodded and looked away, making it clear that I didn’t want to talk about it. “What kind of flowers does Bo like?” Fiona asked.

“I think she said her favorites are tulips.” The woman nodded and began walking to the other side of the store so I swiftly followed her. She motioned to a wall of colorful flowers that vaguely reminded me of tulips. Red, pink, yellow, orange, purple—you name it, Fiona had it. “She loves red.”

The florist nodded and assembled a simple bouquet of red tulips for me and walked over to the register about ten feet away. She typed something in quickly and the total on the little screen read $15.00.

“Expensive,” I noted while taking out my wallet.

“It’s winter, hun, none of these flowers are in season so they have to be expensive. I wish I could change it,” she replied with a small laugh.

I nodded and flashed her a genuine smile, handing her the money, “Fair enough.”

I thanked Fiona and drove as quickly as possible to the hospital, selfishly hoping that Bo hadn’t woken up while I was out.

Unfortunately, I was right.

Relieved because I hadn’t missed out on her grand return, but at the same time, I was still upset that she wouldn’t try and surprise me. The news on the tv in her hospital room babbled on as I grabbed one of the complementary empty flower vases and placed the red tulips there. I tried my best to arrange them so they appeared nice, but I kinda screwed up the arrangement Fiona did when I initially took them out of the plastic packaging.

“Jesus, Billy, with the flowers? I’m not dead yet, babe.”

The flowers fell out of my hands and I looked at the ceiling in amazement. “Thank you,” I whispered to any kind of higher power for returning her to me. Her voice created this deep pit in my stomach and my smile couldn’t be hidden by any means.

I turned on my heel and there she was, sitting up on the hospital bed, smiling at me. I cleared the space between us in a very short time and embraced her tightly in my arms. She made room for me on the bed and I silently obliged.

“Billy,” she squeaked. “You’re crushing me.”

My eyes shot open and I relieved some of the pressure on her, blushing a bit. She took my head in her hands and wiped a tear I couldn’t bother to notice. “I’m sorry, it’s just you’ve been out for so long and I—”

Bo pulled me closer to her and we both took sharp intakes of breath before she almost connected our lips. The pit in the lower part of my abdomen increased and my hands found their way into her hair—gripping it just enough to show her how long I’ve waited for this but also to keep from causing her pain. Our noses brushed and I fought with my eyelids to keep them open—I didn’t want to close them, I didn’t want to wake up and realize she wasn’t really there.

“Ahem,” a female voice from the doorway interrupted.

My eyes shot open and my nostrils flared in anger that we had to be interrupted. Bo sighed and rolled her eyes at the incredible timing of the nurse standing in the doorway, silently chuckling. I obviously wanted to ignore the nurse, but I didn’t want me and Bo’s first kiss to be like that. Even though I was disappointed that the opportunity was missed, I was still off the walls at the fact that she was awake.

“I think I have to go now,” I told her humorously, stroking her soft and smooth cheek with the back of my rough fingers. She nodded and I pulled away when she did, leaving her in the hospital bed presumably to get examined by the nurse that initially interrupted us.

The middle-aged nurse came into the room once I got up from the bed and gave me a dirty look but I didn’t even care.

“I need to check her vitals and run some tests, you need to wait in the waiting room, sir,” she said snippily. I saw Bo’s head peep out behind the nurse and she nodded at me with the same stupid smile that was plastered on my face. I shot her a quick wink and walked back to the visitor’s room in a daze. I took a seat next to Shawn Hughes—my head still spinning (in a good way) and I held my fingers on my lips in shock at the fact that I almost kissed her. I was so close.

“Are you high?” Shawn asked me from my right. I shook my head to get out of my thoughts about his sister and looked at him with that prolonged grin on my features.

“She’s awake,” I informed him, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Oh—oh my God, is she okay?! I have to call my mom!”

I nodded. This was the first time in weeks I was sure of myself. “Yeah, she—she’s okay. She’s okay.”


	37. writing update!

this is not a chapter update but merely a note from me, the author!

unfortunately i'm hitting some pretty terrible writer's block for this story and i have some chapters ahead of this outlined but nothing i want to publish because i'm a perfectionist. i will not be abandoning this story or anything like that but it is temporarily on hold (probably only for a few weeks). 

also because of this block, i might not even get into the plot of season 3 at all and just skip it entirely but i haven't made up my mind about that yet! 

again, this is only temporary so don't give up on billy & bo yet :)

thank you from the bottom of my heart if you've read this far and know that i love u vv much. 

~brooke


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